


Prisms

by Mad_Hamlet



Series: Spectrum [1]
Category: BtVS - Fandom, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Dark, Evil, F/F, Femslash, drama(Original Literary meaning), happy ending(more or less), vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 07:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Hamlet/pseuds/Mad_Hamlet
Summary: The Slayer kills supernatural evil; demons, vampires, other-worldly creatures of all kinds and it's okay for two reasons.Firstly, they're evil; secondly, they're not human.And yet....‘Evil is unspectacular, and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our table.'-W.H. Auden





	1. Black

**Author's Note:**

> There are no warnings; this is a deliberate choice on my part. The author notes are brusque; another conscientious choice. I feel no responsibility to anticipate needs for the former and find the latter slatternly mongering ego appeasement and thus despise it. I wrote this a long time ago, it's uploaded here to keep things all in one place. Should this story cause one discomfort then you have my sympathies, but never apologies; after all, it means it worked.

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (grrr…arrgghh)

 

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents,

A Mad-Hamlet Production

 

                                                            Prisms

                                                             Black

 

            Couldn't have missed her. Not from clear across the bleedin' state much less across the street. Course I could have picked her up in the middle of a crowd what we're on such good terms n' all and that I knew her scent by heart.

 

            I was out of the Watcher's house, enjoyin' what I could of the night; hey, just because I am currently, how shall we put this, out of order doesn't mean I still don't like the dark. Besides the stupid git wouldn't let me watch my soaps and I just had to cool off, what with me not bein' allowed to gut him like a fish. I figured I'd cruise a few alleyways, maybe the graveyards around the town, get lucky, come across a demon or somethin' and take out my pent up aggressions on that poor bastard. One must keep in practice after all.

 

            Regrettably I hadn't gotten any nibbles; humans say on the night of a full moon evil walks and maybe that's true, maybe that isn't. I never cared what kind of moon it was when I did my stalkings, but on this night it seemed evil was practically snoring.

 

            Till I saw her. Than I realized that supernatural evil had just given way, that evenin' at least, too something more...human.

 

            She was upwind of me and while I could only really make her out as she walked from one pool of light to the next, under the street lamps, the scents told me more than the eyes ever could have. Though they did tell quite a bit.

 

            She was walking with that brisk stride women do when they really want to run but can't because of high heels. A mixture of speed and efficiency I suppose. It was supposed to look like a strong walk, a 'don't get in my way because I have actual places to be' kind of step. Course the rest of her body language ruined the image completely. Arms hugging herself tightly, head bowed till chin almost met breast bone, her gaze probably locked on the earth directly in front of her not really seeing it.

 

            Anyone who looked at her would probably have thought to themselves, 'Ah, now there goes a lady who's had a really bad day.' then dismissed her from memory. If they could smell what I was, at that moment, they would have realized that this girly girl had just about the worst day possible.

 

            The first dead give-away was the smell of sweat, cigarette smoke and alcohol. She never would have gone for something like that, or some place for that matter. Well, the Bronze maybe, but this reek was more of the kind one would find in a hole-in-the-wall down by the harbour. But that odour could have been explained away. No the kicker was the smell of blood. Not your run of the mill, 'let's slit the jugular and see how far it shoots' blood either. This was thick blood. Mixed in with all sorts of other…materials.

Like semen.

 

            And than there's all the emotional crap too, that humans carry around like luggage. Believe it or not we can smell those as well. Fear, predictably, is my favourite but others are pretty recognizable as well. In this case it was shame. Coming off her in big, waves that could have knocked over a building and gave me a splitting headache for a moment. Added that to her tab.

 

 

 

            Did I mention I have pretty good hearing too? No? Well I do. And even from this distance I could hear the muffled whimpers and those little choking noises that people make at the back of their throats when they're trying to hold back a scream. You can bloody well bet I'd recognize that sound anywhere, being the cause of so many in my time.

 

            I decided to...tag along, follow her home y'know. Not to make sure she'd make it okay but, maybe there was an off chance some night beastie would think she'd make a good snack and I could rip it to pieces.

 

            Again, in that regard I was out of luck, she entered the campus and moved across the darkened lawns straight for her dorm, the one she shares with her best friend in the whole wide world. Best friends, uh-huh, I'll bet. Let's see how true their friendship really is, see if my little missy here will spill her guts regarding her eventful evening. '

 

            I'll watch through the window', I decided, 'It's not like there's anything on the telly.'

 

            Now that was a impressive display. I had no idea she was capable of such acting skills. Why, if I had the resources I'd have awarded her an Oscar on the spot. As it was I had a very hard time not clapping and shouting out 'Bravo!'

 

            She really did a fantastic job, my little chippy, and of course argued my point that no one trusts anyone quite nicely. I suppose she spent a few minutes 'putting on her face' before she entered her room. I missed that part, pity really, would have been amusing. Anyhow, from outside on my perch I could get a pretty good look inside the room and she came waltzing through the door like she was walking on air.

Great big smile plastered on her face, top o'the world. I'm sure.

 

            They talked about something for a few minutes but I couldn't make it out and I'm no soddin' lip reader either. Eventually she stripped out of her clothing, slipped into a robe, grabbed some basket of toiletries and, tossing a comment over her shoulder, vanished again.

 

 

            So… there's just me, out on a limb, her roommate, still glancing at a magazine. And we waited….

 

            And waited….

 

            And waited.

 

            I was beginning to get a little bored and thought about calling it a night, maybe catch some reruns. Luck was with me though. Her roommate noticed the discarded garments and, being such a good friend she is, got up off the bed to put em' away in the laundry basket.

 

            I have no idea how she can pick up my kind so easily, it's not like she can smell us, well not me at least, I bathe regularly. So it wasn't too surprising too watch her not realize something was amiss until she got a good, long whiff of her recently departed roommate apparel. And she couldn't even do that until she practically shoved her face in the bleedin' things.

 

            Humans. How pathetic.

 

            Regardless, she did get a good lungful of em' but still didn't pick up on just what was on the up'n'up. Not yet, no it took her a little longer. She had to hold the clothes up carefully, y'know, examine em' like a detective from the yard back home. Hell, I could see the message staring me in the face but no, not her. Not till she saw the tears along the sides, the holes in the stockings leading up the side of the leg.

 

            Then she got it.

 

            I would have laughed had I not been wishing to remain silent, and I had to muffle a few quiet snorts just the same. First her eyes got real big, and I mean really big. I doubt she gaped that much when she met Angelus for the first time and Angelus is very much worth gaping at.

 

            Then her jaw dropped and she stood there for a few moments like a royal idiot.

Just… stood there while her mind munched on that little bit of information that it just processed not moving, not even blinking. Heck, breathing probably was a secondary concern at that moment and we all know how important that is…or in my case was.

 

            She was out the door like a shot, a flurry of hair and movement, whipping around the corner and down the hall. I could almost hear her screaming her the little chit's name.

 

            I doubted they would be back for quite a while so I figured I'd do a little pokin' about of my own. Casually I reached out and eased the window open, true I couldn't actually go inside as I had never been invited but that was alright, not what I had in mind anyway. Hunching down on the sill, which is quite hard despite supernatural strength, I took in a deep lungful of air, they don't get much use but still do the job. I went through the scents, females…two…both easily recognizable. I'm still, to this day, having an internal debate which one I hate more; sweat, various foods...couldn't believe they liked that on their pizzas, then I got it. Male- more than one.

 

            Mentally cataloguing them I closed the window up again and easily leapt to the ground. I was definitely going to head back to the Watcher's now. My entertainment wasn't over yet; there were arguments to be had, tears to be shed and promises of bloody vengeance to be made. I figured this would be better than sweeps week.

 

            I saw them in my mind and that of course is where it began to go all bloody wrong, the two of them, my little chit naked, curled up in a corner like they do in all the movies, cold water running down on the two of em' as her friend held her close. Crying together emotions all-a-tizzy doing anything and everything to make the pain go away, the last few hours simply not happen.

 

            "That's right little slayer," I said out loud. "Hold your Willow close, help her through these hard times like you do everybody else. Try and help her forget that she's been raped."

 

            I expected to laugh out loud.

            I expected to enjoy the rest of the evening like I hadn't in a very long while.

            I expected to go back to my fellow countryman's house and sit on the sidelines and enjoy.

 

            But nnooo… I couldn't get that lucky.

 

            Not me, not poor ol' 'Don't mind him daughter, he's a neutered vampire' Spike.

 

            I started feeling angry. I mean, so bloody furious my other nature got the better of me and for a few minutes I spent the time snarling my rage out at the moon. Not that over inflated hunk of rock ever cared.

 

            I couldn't understand it, I couldn't get the sounds Willow had made out my head. They just rung in my brain over and over like the worst demo tape ever made stuck on infinite playback and that image of her false smile for the Slayer. Bloody hell! It was so perverse, so out of place and ungodly… my respect for her actually went up a notch. Dru couldn't have done better which is saying something.

 

            I argue the point now, as I did at that time, that I didn't care about Wicca girl and her little Slayer buddy. I still don't, my reasoning was thus: I was angry because a bunch of snot-nosed little punks had done what I, with centuries of experience and a taste for real panache, had been unable to do. Hurt the Slayer.

A few minutes after coming up with that argument I realized that there were some things even I, being a hell spawned demon made flesh in the body of man, would not do.

 

            I didn't get it then, and don't get it now, where exactly does the demon end and the remnants of the human begin. I mean, I was shocked at the revelation! I had values?

 

            It began in the back of my skull, like that itchy, tingling feeling you get right before you sneeze, but in this case all the scratching in the world wouldn't alleviate it. It grew and grew and was crushing across my mind and it wouldn't be stopped, I snarled, I screamed and raged.

 

            I put my hand through a tree…which hurt.

 

            And in the end I gave up. With a sigh I accepted it.

I, William Blood, William the Bloody, scourge of Europe and parts of Asia…a Childe of Angelus for Christ's sake…was going to do something noble.

 

            With a snarl I set off across the campus at a brisk run, had to get back to Giles after all. Didn't want to miss the big meeting.

 

 

END-Black

 

 


	2. Blue

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr…arrggh)

 

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents,

A Mad-Hamlet Production

 

                                                          Prisms

                                                            Blue

 

            I can't quite recall… I this it was Roosevelt who said 'This is a day that will live in infamy.' Or something. But he was talking about Pearl Harbour not this particular Tuesday.

 

            Up to a point it was a typical Tuesday. School, homework, a brief patrol though a complete lack of spider-sense anywhere convinced me to call it in early, and then back to the dorm for a well deserved cup of cocoa…or coffee, anything but tea, maybe watch a few movies and then hit the sack.

 

            While most collage students take such activities for granted I ,for one, was looking forward to them and practically drooling at the prospect; a nice, normal evening for me, The Slayer. Who woulda' thunk?

 

            It was after the movies and the cocoa that she came back home. I still wasn't feeling particularly tired at the time so I was just leafing through a magazine that I had picked up from… somewhere. Looking at the various models and their newest outfits, reading the 'love help letters' laughing at their problems, wishing I had it so tough and she just came launching through the door. She'd gone out for some Wiccan meeting, I'm still not too clear on the exact goings on therein but I'm pretty sure full moons are important for something or other, that night being a full moon one, she'd gone out. No...wait I said that already didn't I.

 

            I didn't take a look at her when she came, it's not like I was all googly-eyes over her anything…at the time. So I didn't really look up when she came in just a quick glance in her direction before dipping back to some idiots letter about how his girlfriend didn't like to swallow.

 

            "Heya girlfriend," I said. "How was all the bubble, bubble, cauldron toil stuff?"

 

            She shook out her red hair, "That's toil, boil, cauldron bubble Buffy. And we don't use cauldrons as they're very expensive and somewhat tacky."

 

            "So no broomsticks either?" I replied flipping a page.

 

            "No, no broomsticks either." By now she was stripping out of her clothing and while I did not obviously want to stare at her I was watching out of the corner of my eyes. Willow is… was…is…soothing. She always had been, even when scared or hurt or…anything. When I was in trouble she was there, and when we talked and I mean when we really needed to talk, while it didn't always answer the problems at hand or even make any steps in the right direction at times, I always felt better for it.

 

            She carried such possibilities in everything she did. Be it appearance, personality or…anything. I loved her for that. I needed her for that! It's not like anything in a Slayer's life is incredibly stable so I need what I could get and Willow was one of my rocks. No, that's not quite it.

 

            It's like she took after her name sake: a willow tree. With long drooping branches that would hang down to the ground creating this small area of calm. You could gently push aside the leaves, sit on the ground and relax in the shade.

 

            Cool…I really ought to write that down.

 

            I should have seen it, I really should have but she was being careful. Her back was turned to me and she already had her favorite terrycloth robe in hand and she slipped it on quickly.

 

            "Gonna take a quick shower Buff, be right back."

 

"Sure thing Willow," I glanced at her face again. The black rings under her eyes were really sticking out, even with the lights on she looked really gloomy. I entertained, for a minute, the possibility that this was really her vampric dopplge..dopplgeng…copy.

 

            "Wow," I said. "You do look exhausted."

 

            Shooting me a quick glance that looked almost panicked she said. "Yeah, well…that's me. Exhausted; I mean really exhausted. Wiped out, drained, exhaustion used my face for a boogie board on a gravel street."

 

            And she darted out the door.

 

I arched my left eyebrow and clucked my tongue once or twice. "My," I said to the empty room. "That was a tad graphic."

 

            And went back to reading the fascinating letter about a woman who couldn't get her man to go down.

 

            "Honey," I said aloud again, "There's a man on the previous page who you have just got to talk too."

 

            Willow is one of those …well not quite a neat freak but definitely everything has a place in her mind and she goes to worthwhile effort to make sure those things go back in there allotted spots. I eyed her fallen clothing and tried to bite down on the impulse to put them away for her.

 

            I was sooo comfortable. Just lying here on the bed legs kicking in the air flipping through the pages of my 'reading material' and occasionally stopping to take sniff at this latest perfume or cologne on the sample pages. Didn't want to get up.

 

            But you know how friendship is, sometimes you just get this urge do something nice and it doesn't go away and it doesn't go away and so on and so forth until you really have no choice but to do it.

 

            I stood up on the bed, gave a bounce or two and hopped off, not giving a hoot if the thump of my landing bothered the folks living below us. They never seemed to care if their stereo was too loud so…

 

            Grumbling slightly at how Willow better pay for the bagels tomorrow I crossed the room and picked up her dress. I think it was then, just as I had it in my hands that something began bugging me not my spider tingle thingie. Just…an instinctual warning began keening behind my eyes. Then I used them.

 

            Holding the dress out at arms length I turned it around slowly getting a good look at the material. It was one of Willow's long gowns, a deep red in colour, that simply hung over her body from the straps on the shoulders, not a body hugging bit of clothing but it looked good on her. With her short red hair and green eyes it added to the ethereal quality of her appearance.

 

            Now it would never do that again. The tears began at the hem a long one going all the way to where her thigh would have been. There were others, one along the 'V' line that ran along down to where, originally, it had stopped just above the swell of her breasts. Now the cut ..or tear.. went down all the way to the center of the dress. Had Willow been still wearing it and let her hands loose I would have been able to see her navel.

 

            The keening was becoming a full blown wailing and then that smell hit me. Right between the eyes 'AWACK!'. It was awful… and I'm smelled some really bad things. But this was…worse.

 

            Alright, it was only cigarette smoke and beer, and I remembered those smells from the few 'parties' I went too.

 

            That got my attention right there 'cause I know Willow had been to a Wiccan gathering and I had it on pretty good authority that Wiccans did not sit down small bars, smokin' Luckies, drinking each other under the table and making rude comments about passing men.

 

            There was more, something else and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what it was. I slowly, I was almost frightened, buried my nose in the material and took a tentative sniff. Something stale… rotten...something bad. Something really bad.

 

 

At this point it was simple arithmetic.

 

Willow's Kinda Odd Behavior --Plus--Torn Clothing--Plus--Bad smells…

 

            I'll never forget that moment. I know, cliché as hell but that's the way it was. I will never forget it not in a billion years. Every nuance of that time is permanently on 'Freeze Frame' in mind even to this day.

 

            It was like jumping in freezing water and getting kicked in the stomach at the same time. You want to throw up but can't move because you can't breathe either. Wanting to scramble out of the water but paralyzed by the screaming of your mind.

 

            In that split second a ...a…well, a hell of lot of things tore through my mind. I am The Slayer and I take that responsibility very seriously. But I take my friends even more so and I had sworn to myself to protect them over and over. Sometimes I slipped up…a few occasions it was really close but…but I had always come through in the end. Yes, they got hurt but…not like this. Never before like this.

 

            A great… The numbness was swept away by a deep stabbing feeling in my gut…for the first time I think I had a certain affinity for all those vamps I'd staked. I felt like someone had staked me.

 

            FAILURE

 

            I shook my head… "No." I think, looking back on it, that was probably the loudest whisper in history.

 

            FAILURE

            FAILURE

            FAILURE

 

            And then I was running down the halls screaming her name.

 

 

 

            I've seen movies, y'know, with women recovering from a rape, and in the name of drama or some such their always either curled up on the floor sobbing their eyes out or maybe scrubbing away at their skin under scalding water until they start bleeding. The mental picture of Willow doing either lent me strength enough that, if I had been facing him again, I would have twisted the Mayor Demon's head off like the cap on a tube of toothpaste.

 

            I literally tore the shower stall door of it's hinges. She was standing with her back to the water, letting it run through her hair, rinsing out the soap. Almost, but not quite facing me. She opened one eye, still keeping her head tilted back.

 

            "Figured it out Buffy? Thought you might."

 

            I could see her, she was naked, right in front of me naked; not just as in without clothing but without soul. I always thought that...when you're with someone, that you, y'know, love and you lower all your defences and accept that person inside, that's when you're most vulnerable, most naked but it's an openness you want, that you crave.

 

            I never thought what it would be like if someone just…forced you open like that.

 

 

 

            The bruises were centered around her breasts and pelvis; big, ugly splotches that marked clearly where heavy hands had mauled her and strong fingers buried themselves in her flesh. They must have hurt in this stinging hot water; they must have hurt a lot.

 

            "W-Willow?"

 

            "It's not really such a big deal Buffy, I mean- compared to when that bookshelf got dropped on me, that hurt a lot more; really it did.. I mean, it did when I woke up; I don't really remember much about the bookcase falling and hitting me part, but, y'know that was probably 'cause it was hitting me at the time. But when I woke up in the hospital, hoo-boy, yeah…little red fire trucks racing across my vision. Ouch. Big time," she cracked this awful parody of a half smile.

 

            I took a slow step forward.

 

            "Willow?" I said again.

 

            "And it wasn't that scary either. Oh, heck yeah I was scared anybody would be… but...it wasn't scary; scary like when Angelus grabbed me. Remember that? He came up behind me and grabbed me and was, y'know, full vamp mode, teeth, yellow eyes; the full works, and was whispering all those terrible things; he liked to do to people involving blood and screaming…yeah that was really scary."

 

            I took another step forward. She was just facing me now, hands at her side, her right hand still holding a bar of soap, and she was slowly turning it over and over making lots of suds that were just getting rinsed away, swirling down the drain.

 

            "Willow," I stepped under the water now she was only a few inches away.

 

            "Willow, you're babbling," I said very quietly.

 

            "No, really it wasn't so bad," she said staring at me, asking me with her eyes to tell her she was right. "I mean, those demons you told me about when you were working in that café, the ones that took teenagers to their dimension and turned em' into slaves? I mean, they made you a slave for your entire life and when you were old and no good any more they'd bring you back and you'd only have been missing for one day! That would have been really bad…I mean...wow...enslaved for a lifetime and not being missed..no that's really bad stuff compared to what ..to what...to what these...guys…"

 

            And she collapsed; I grabbed her and eased her down to the tiled floor. Her babbling had always been a …defence thing I guess but it couldn't defend her again this; I couldn't defend her from this and it was back.

 

            FAILURE

 

            She was crying…sobbing…screaming…she grabbed me, grabbed me and pulled me in and I held her, cradled her in my arms while she just curled up tighter and tighter. I held her and rocked back and forth. Just being there...because I couldn't be anywhere else and I hadn't when-

 

            FAILURE

 

I … I started crying myself. For her…for me…for everything.

 

            "I'll find them Willow," I mumbled into her hair. My arms shaking, her shaking.  "I'll find them I promise and I'll kill them. They'll die. You'll be okay, I'll be here for you. We'll find them together and you can watch what I do to them...you can offer me suggestions."

 

            She didn't say anything, just kept crying. I couldn't see the tears, I couldn't see anything. I was soaked, I was crying, I was tired….the Cocoa which had tasted so warm and sweet going down now sat inside me like lead.

 

            "Good...day," Willow croaked.

 

            "What?"

 

            "It was …" she hiccupped. "..it was supposed to be…such a good day.." and she broke off into more jagged sobs.

 

            "Yeah…" I whispered more to myself than her. "It was."

 

            "N-no..." she gasped out. She grabbed my hand tight. It was like everything just stopped right then.

 

            She was looking at me, looking into me! She wasn't the only naked one at that split second.

 

            "A really good day," She squeaked. "I was…I was going… The ritual. It showed me, they showed..my sisters, they showed me...gave me-"

 

            Sisters? I was confused. The Wiccans..oh..right.

 

            "What Willow..what did they share with you?"

 

            "The Truth," She finally sighed.

 

            "The Truth?"

 

            "Uh-huh." She nodded. "And ..they gave me the strength to ..say it. Say it to who it belonged too."

 

            "Shhh… That's not important now, now…now ..now I take care of you...we.. we find those .."

 

            "No!" she insisted tightening her grip on my hand. "It is important. It was important; it was the most important thing in the world. My sisters showed me how to say it, what to say… showed me that everything I was scared of didn't matter and that...and that...no matter what it would be better. That everything would be better."

 

            Her composure cracked and she started crying again.

 

            "Ooohh God Buffy… they killed it…they killed me...oh God oh God oh God…." She buried her face in my shoulder and I couldn't do a damn thing. Not one…damn…thing.

 

            I have never hated anyone like I did at that moment.

           

            The Master?

 

            Angelus?

 

             The Mayor?

 

            Oh, I had hated them. I had to hate them because of what they were. Evil. Evil in nature, by their very design they were this way. And that, at the very least, gave them something of an excuse.

 

            But this? This was done by people. People I was supposed to protect but they had chosen this way. They had actually had a choice and had made it. It wasn't built in, it wasn't part of their 'role' in the Universe. They were no more hell born or hell spawned then the girl in my arms. There was nothing 'Hellmouthy' about this whatsoever and yet they had done something evil. And for that, for that I figured all these neat Slayer powers would work wonderfully well.

 

            "No…no," I held her tight trying to ignore the swell of hate in my gut. "You're not dead, they didn't kill you; you have your truth, always. I won't let them take it away. You'll be fine..I swear- and...and…." It was getting hard to talk I was crying so hard.

 

            "And when you're ready you can give that Truth to ..to...whoever and everything will be better."

 

            I didn't know if I was lying or not. I mean, I felt like it was true, I believed it. I had to believe it because the idea of losing who and what my Willow was…was…

 

            I could have killed Angel a hundred, hundred times with a smile on my face rather than face that.

 

            "Not that simple," Willow blurted. "It's not-  You, you don't understand and it's not that …not that easy and- "

 

            "Yes it is!" I sat up and grabbed her face between my hands. She was kneeling now on the tiles and I was kneeling in front of her, towering over her, eye to eye; the hot water still pouring down on us. Anyone could have walked in at that second and gotten a real eyeful but I would have laid them out on the spot.

 

            "Look at me," I insisted.

 

            "Look at me!" I gave her an eensy tiny shake till her eyes locked with mine.

 

            "It is that easy," I hissed out between clenched teeth. "It is that easy and I'll tango with Spike before I let you go. You're alive, hurting but alive and I will be with you until the hurting stops. I will never leave you, you stupid wiccan, I will never, ever leave you!"

 

            I was really crying now, getting the words out between sobs. "You mean too much to me Willow and I will never let you go."

 

            Her eyes were really wide and almost...almost like they used to be though how I could have realized the difference in such a short time I'll never know.

 

            "Promise?"

 

            I nodded. "Promise."

 

            She paused and I let her face go and sat back down. She pushed her body against mine seeking another hug which I gave her, wrapping my arms around her. We sat like that for a while, in the bathroom, under the hot water. Not saying much, not saying anything at all actually; for awhile.

 

            "It hurts, Buffy."

 

            I pulled her closer.

 

            "I know, Willow."

 

 

END-Blue


	3. Purple

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr…arrg)

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

            A Mad-Hamlet Production

                                                         Prisms

                                                         Purple

 

            I really must throw away this CD;  which is shame because it does hold one of my most favorite pieces of classical music on it. It's just that I am thoroughly convinced it is hellishly evil. Every tragedy that has come upon us, every challenge or great darkness, has usually been preceded by myself sitting down with a hot kettle of fine tea, a good book, and Pachabel's Cannon playing over the stereo; and a ham sandwich, never ever forget the sandwich.

  
            One would think that either the sandwich or the tea suspect but such things did not occur when I listened too Beethoven, or Bach, Strauss or even Mozart; just Pachebel's Cannon. That night was no exception. I had not forgotten the sandwich and tragedy did come.

            Being the eldest member of a team of primarily young people, led by one who is destined to face the forces of supernatural evil, I find myself more often than not being relegated to duties usually involving research. Said research usually lasts very late into the night and due to these circumstances I find myself having somewhat odd hours. This, by default, sometimes leads to insomnia so on that particular night I was battling it as usual with the aforementioned, book, sandwich, music habit of mine.

            It also suited another purpose as my unwilling housemate, Spike, was out and about the neighborhood and I thought it a good idea to wait for his inevitable return. I was flipping through the few CD's I owned and decided to listen to Pachebel's Cannon as it had been a good long while since the last time. If I had bothered to recall, the last time I had listened to that particular piece of music was just before Angelus attacked me.

            No sooner had I inserted the CD and settled in my chair when Spike came waltzing through. Without a word he simply strode around me and entered the kitchen. I could hear him rustling about as the first few notes of the music floated around the room. He seemed to like it as I heard him, belatedly, trying to whistle along. A few minutes later he came back into the living room carrying a large glass.

            "Drinking it cold tonight?" I asked.

  
            "It's mixed with bloody vodka, you can bloody well bet I'll drink the bleedin' concoction cold," He snarled.

            He seemed...tense.

            "Yes, well..." I began.

  
            "Do you have any bleedin' idea how annoying that is?" Spike interrupted me.  


            "Eh...what?"  


            "That too."  
           

            "Sorry?"  
           

            "Sod off!"  


            "What on Earth is the matter with you?" I finally snapped.  


            "Better," And a smug smile was the only reply I got before he took a long pull on the tankard.

            "What's wrong with me Mr. Watcher? You really want to know?" He finally asked wiping away the blood with his shirt cuff.

            I put my book down. "Yes Spike, tell me what's the matter, tell me what's bothering you...did the puppy dog you toss in the street not get hit by a car? Did you see a particularly delicious pair of twins that you really wanted but just couldn't taste? How does that commercial go? No one can eat just one? You watch more TV than me. You should know!" By this time I was practically shouting.

            To this day I don't know why he got to me so easily. Spike is a somewhat unflappable person despite having a very short temper and maybe it was the fact that he was behaving ...not normally... that set me on edge. Of course 'normal' for Spike would have left a sane person, well, less so; regardless, I had lost my temper and allowed him to win the 'battle' as it were; not my proudest moment.

            With exaggerated movements Spike set his tankard aside and gently clapped his hands together.

  
            "Quite right 'old bean'," He said, in a mocking, exaggerated pompous boor accent. "But no, it was nothing like that. In a way I'd rather have to deal minor difficulties such as that very entertaining list you offered. Yes, somethin' is 'the matter' in fact several things are 'the matter'. Several large, ugly, things that, oh too bad so sad, do not simply go poof when embedded on a stick. What is even worse is I can't take responsibility for 'the matter' though, after givin' it a second thought I wouldn't do that." He paused, looked introspective for a moment before coming to a decision of some sort and resumed speaking.

  
            "Also s'not my place to discuss what is 'the matter' as it doesn't exactly involve me, at least not willingly. I stumbled across it and unless you do so your ownself, or they allow you in, then fine. But for now...sit down you're blocking the telly."

            And with that little speech said he reached down, grabbed the tankard and took another long pull.

            I was shaking... I was livid...no I meant it I was quite honestly and truly annoyed!

 

            Here I am former agent of a society that's job involved hunting down creatures of the night and here, in my very own home, now sits one of said creatures behaving like a..a....I don't know.

  
            I was seriously tempted to slap the tankard out of his hand but I'm quite sure the most that would have gotten me is a false hurt look, some snide comment, and a permanent stain in my carpeting.

            I was also suddenly very nervous. Something 'bad' had happened or as Spike had said something was 'the matter'. However he wouldn't say what it was other than that it bothered even him and he had also mentioned that even he would not have done whatever it was that was 'the matter'.

            I took off my glasses to rub the bridge of my nose and froze when he gave a snort. Putting them back on I tried to approach the situation in a calm rationale manner as befitting someone with my background.

            "Spike."

            He ignored me.

            "Spike."

            Another pull on the tankard.

            "Spike!"

            "I said 'no' Watcher. I know I know what you're thinking. 'Spike? Respectful of privacy? He kills people as food, you can't invade a person's privacy more than that!' Well, bollocks that, you're bloody wrong and that is all I'm gonna say on the matter." He craned his neck to take a look at the clock. I glanced at it myself wondering the significance.  


            Keeping his eyes on the clock he held out his hand palm up with all five fingers out. Then began curling them one by one.

            Five....four...three..two....one....zero.  


            The phone rang.

            "Oh goody," Spike suddenly was smiling. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Showtime!"

            I walked over to the phone which was still ringing. "One day you'll tell me how you did that," I said.

            He shrugged, "Honestly? Lucky guess."

            I picked up the phone.

            "Hello?"

            "Giles," I wasn't sure because her voice sounded so different.. flat…but I thought it was Buffy. "Buffy?"

            "Giles what would happen if I killed someone?" she asked.

            "What? What on earth are you talking about?"

            "Hypothetical question Giles," she said in that same flat voice. "Just answer. What would happen if The Slayer killed another person? Any magic curses? Lose my powers? Get damned for eternity? Anything?"

            It took me a few seconds for the gears in my mind to start turning. "Er...um...no...nothing like that. Recall that Faith did kill the deputy Mayor and she's is still among the living," I winced. "In a manner of speaking."

            The fact that Buffy had nearly killed her ...less restrained counterpart still haunted her and I was quite upset with myself for being so careless with words. For a minute I felt a bit like Xander and braced myself for the worst. I was not quite expecting the response I actually got.

            "That doesn't matter right now. She wasn't...she wasn't really a Slayer at the time. So...that doesn't answer my question. Have any other Slayers in the past ever killed a human not involved in this...this dark vs. light war thing?"

            Stretching the cord across the room I strained to reach one of the Watcher Journals I still had. Spike stretched his feet out as if to trip me then pulled them back at the last instant. Ignoring him I flipped through a few pages looking for a particular paragraph.

            "Um...Buffy...the only case involving a full 'on duty' Slayer ever killing a human on purpose was…" I skimmed over the page. "The early eighteenth century. It seems a group of slavers and their cargo were attacked by a nest of vampires." I skimmed some more. "When she arrived she discovered that the Slavers, in a bid to buy more time for themselves, had chained their slaves to a tree leaving them to be fed upon so they themselves could escape. After saving the slaves she could the Slayer then killed the Slavers themselves."

            "And?" Buffy said in that same quiet voice.

            I sighed, "And the Council decided she was a rogue and had her hunted down." Setting the book down I took off my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose, not giving a damn what my 'houseguest' thought of my habits.

            "That's fine," Buffy said.

            "What?"

            "I said, 'That's fine.' I'm already outs with the Council so I don't need to worry about them."

            "Buffy," I was becoming uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going. "Buffy, what's going on? Are you alright?"

            "I'm fine Giles," she replied quickly.

  
            "Then why are you asking me these questions? Why do you want to know about this sort of thing now?" I paused. "Who are you planning on killing?"

            "I'm sorry Giles. I can't talk about it," she said.

            "Buffy tell me what's happening. I can't help you if you won't talk to me," I shot a glance at Spike. He appeared to be trying very hard not to laugh. We would have words after I got off the phone.

            "I can't talk about it Giles. I promised her I wouldn't."

            I've always thought of myself as a smart man; good instincts and a willingness to listen to that little voice in the back of my mind. In my line of work maintaining such and not losing touch with your...erm… humanity over 'responsibilities' is a critical part of staying alive.

            When Buffy said 'I promised her' I could feel the blood drain from my face. The 'little voice' grew to a loud choir and on some level I already knew what she was talking about though I could not…or would not...recognize it. Instead I waffled.

"Um...Buffy...is Willow there?" I was griping the headpiece so tight I think it creaked.

            "She's sleeping Giles."

            The choir became a howling.

  
            "I-I…uh…would like to speak to her. Could you wake her?"

            "I have to go Giles. We'll talk later."

            The howling became a storm.

  
            "Buffy."  
 

             The phone was silenced with a 'click'.

            "Buffy? Buffy!" having had already hung up the phone I doubt she heard me.

            Gently setting the phone back in its cradle I sat down across from Spike. He was hunched forward on the sofa, his knees supporting his arms, which, in turn, were supporting his head with one fist. He looked somewhat like a modern version of that statue...um...'The Thinker" except for the huge smile splitting his features.

            I sighed.

  
            "You seem to know something of what this is all about Spike," I was idly rubbing my hands together.

            He nodded still grinning.

            "And you refuse to tell me what this 'about' involves."

            Again a nod.

            "Buffy won't say anything either but asks about any potential penalties for a Slayer that kills a human being," I paused, started pacing, walking around Spike.  "But she won't tell me what's going on either."

            "You're on a roll Watcher. Keep up the good work." He said, following my progress.

            "And I'm guessing your 'matter' has something to do with why she called."

            He went back to nodding.

            "You said I had to stumble across it, well I believe I have so...will you tell me what you know?" I stopped, sat back down in my seat.

            Spike pursed his lips and laid a finger over them making a mockery of someone deep in thought. He held this pose for a few seconds.

            "No. Can I watch TV now?"

            Well that was quite enough of that thank you.

            I grabbed Spike by the collar and slammed him against the wall with all my weight behind it. I doubt it hurt him very much but the grunt he made was somewhat satisfying.

            "I don't care Spike," I snarled. "I simply do not care about your place or any place or your idea of 'preserving privacy' you will tell me what you know and you will tell me right now." Our faces were barely inches apart.

            He didn't look worried and indeed he had little reason too, as there wasn't a threatening wooden object anywhere nearby and I couldn't exactly beat him to death.

            We stared into each others eyes for a few minutes, me breathing heavily and Spike, well, not looking concerned in the slightest and not breathing at all.

            He gave a sigh of exasperation and rolled his eyes.

            "I'm disappointed in you Watcher," he said calmly. "I always figured you for such a bright lad and to be let down like this," he shook his head. "Such a disappointment."

            I slammed him against the wall a few more times; useless but in a visceral way, satisfying.

            He just gave me a pitying look and we stood there for a few minutes locked together like that. The realization that this wasn't working finally wheedled its way into my mind and I reluctantly let him go.

            "Thanks," He brushed his shirt a few times. "I hate it when the material gets all wrinkled. I look terrible that way and I'm not good with an iron-"

            "Shut up Spike," I said wearily before collapsing in my seat. Pachobel's Cannon was still playing.

            "Oh but if I do that Giles I can't tell you what you want to know," he shrugged. "But… it that's the way you want it…" he let the sentence drift off, shrugging. I refused to rise to the bait and just sat there looking at him.

            Throwing up his hands Spike sat down across from me again and stretched out the sofa. Leaning back in a reclining position he said, "Alright I've had my fun, fair is fair an' all." He looked at me from the corner of his eyes.

            "It's really simple Giles. Willow…your little witch…was raped tonight." He said it without lead in, or sympathy or joy. Just honest, terrible, candor.

            It was a very good thing that I was already sitting down when he said that. Had I not been I probably would have hurt myself quite badly.

            "Wh..what did you say?" I managed to get out.

            Spike sat up, leaned in my direction and carefully enunciated each syllable in a quiet whisper.

            "I said…Willow... your...little…witch…was…raped...tonight," he paused, cocked his head, and smirking, continued. "You do know what that means don't you? Should I, maybe, get you a dictionary?"

            I hit him. I really did, a nice clean left hook to his jaw that rocked his head back and while he was disorientated I leapt up to and pulled one of the swords off the wall. It took a few moments to get it down and that was enough for him to get to his feet and clamber over the sofa. I advanced on him with the blade held in front of me, yes I know Vampires don't fear steel unless you cut their heads off. In that case it will work fine which was my intention at the time.

            "H-hey now Giles…you ..don't want to do that now do you?" He backed away. "I mean this is awful Greek of you, trying to kill the messenger of bad news."

            Ah. Now I had made him nervous! How wonderful.

            "How would you know this?!" I roared. "How would you know what had happened unless you were there!"

 

            I swung at him but he ducked underneath it and darted across the room, keeping his head down.

  
            "I wasn't there! I swear it. I just got lucky an'-" I saw him wince. "Ah hell, poor choice of words!" He held his hands out in placating gesture while shooting looks over his shoulder at the corner I was herding him into.

            "You saw it didn't you?" I thundered. "You sat there, watching it happen and were probably laughing yourself silly!!"

            I charged. Had I been striking at a normal person I wouldn't have missed but even though he couldn't hurt me back he still had his vampiric speed and managed to evade the blow.

            "Are you out of your bloody mind?" he shouted. "You're food to me, would you get your jollies watching cattle shag?"

            "That's an excellent point!" I roared back, kicking the table out the way; I'd clean it up tomorrow. "But we also don't swear oaths of vengeance at our beef stock either!"

            "Beef doesn't fight back!"

            He tried to get past me again but this time I was ready and managed to land a kick in his gut and, while it didn't hurt him it gave me the opportunity to pin him to the wall, the swords edge at his throat.

            "Talk," I commanded.

            "Jesus Christ, why didn't you just ask?" He was stretching his neck in an effort to keep away from the sword.

            "It was during my walk," he spoke rapidly.  "Minding my own business, looking for the odd demon to shred and I saw her walkin' home. I could smell it on her. I followed her home, watched her not tell The Slayer and then hung around outside the window until Summers' caught on and ran off to do her 'best friend thing' with Red in the shower. That's it. I swear."

            I slowly relaxed the blade as the full impact of the revelation began to make itself felt. I could feel the strength began to drain away from my limbs. The sword clattered to the ground and I let it lay where it fell.

  
            "Dear God," I muttered

            "Oh, I can assure you," Spike muttered rubbing his throat. "God had nothing to do with this, and I can take some satisfaction in the fact that Hell didn't either. This little escapade is all human."

            I let his running commentary pass over me, not really listening.

            It was, it is, the most neutral experience I have ever had. A complete nothing on the emotional spectrum; no pain or rage or hate, no worry or sympathy either like those parts of my mind had just...stopped. Run out petrol like.

  
            I was left with just a smooth, icy machine like mind running and it just kept processing the same thought over and over.

  
            Willow was raped.  
            Willow was raped.  
            Willow was raped…

            "Willow," I whispered to the air beside me.

  
            "Mm?" Spike looked up. He had sat down on arm of the sofa closest to me and had been resting his head in his hands a moment before.

            "She…was raped?" I whispered again.

            "More than once," Spike said without emotion. "I got two different male scents."

            "You smelled them?" I asked

            "Yep."

            "So you can track them." It wasn't a question.

            "Yep," He sounded like he knows where I'm going.

            And it all came rushing back, feelings, hating, sadness, pain, rage, need; all of it. I couldn't let Buffy do this. It just wouldn't be fair to her. I'd do it first.

            I got to my feet.

            "Stand up," I ordered.

            "Eh? Where we going?" He asked, nonplussed.

            I slipped on my jacket and headed for the door. "Hunting."

            Spike was scrambling into his duster, hurrying to catch up. "Why Giles, I didn't know you had it in you."

            I turned in the doorway.

            "Not Giles, Spike," I took off my glasses and put them in my breast pocket. "Ripper."

            "Ooooo."

 

END- Purple

 


	4. Green

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents,

A Mad-Hamlet Production

 

                                                    Prisms - Green

 

 

            Anything can be raised to an art form. Absolutely anything. Let's take for example...oh...the Art of Ignoring Someone. Being able to ignore someone or something about someone for a short period of time is easy. In fact the capability to do so is practically built in.

 

            Ah, but if you want to ignore someone for a long time, say, years and years and additionally this is someone by all rights you shouldn't be ignoring, that it is, in fact, someone you should be caring for. Why to maintain that sort of ignorance takes…discipline, planning, will power and a desire to succeed come hell or high water.

 

            Like any other art form it can also be taught and I had learned it pretty damn well. My parents had taught the Art of Ignoring to me and now, having mastered it, I ignored them. Lying in my bed in the basement; not bothered in the slightest by the fight going on over my head; just working on my latest bit of 'Art'.

 

            But one cannot sacrifice everything for their work can they? No, particularly when someone is banging at the door leading to their hidey-hole. Which some people are. I clamber out of my bed, slip on my jeans and slowly climb the stairs. I can hear voices from the other side.

 

"…good is he anyway? Comedy relief? It's not like she wanted any of you, any of us to know what was going on."

 

            Ah. Great, I get over an eight hour shift, listen to my parents relive the top ten prize fights of all time, and now, when I should be embracing Morpheus I get to suffer verbal abuse from a vamp.

 

            "He has to know, he has a right to know."

 

            That makes me pause. Right to know what?

 

            "That is out an' out bullshit Watcher an' you bloody well know it. He has the right to know exactly what she wants him to know and not one bit more. Obviously she doesn't want anyone to know, I just came across the problem you think I want my life this complicated?"

 

            "She needs help Spike, she has to come to grips with this and the best person to help her with that is the person who is almost family to her."

 

            I open the door. "She's not almost family." I say. "Willow is family."

 

            "Oh nice entrance Harris, two thumbs up for dramatic overtones," Spike backs his jibe by actually giving me two thumbs up.

 

            "Happy Days ended years ago Spike. Deal with it," I say and brush past the impotent one and approach Giles. "Yo G-Man what's up. Much as I like to see you and we're all bonded an' everything I gotta say I question yer sense of…"

 

            "Willow was raped, Xander," He says.

 

            "What?"

 

            "I said 'Willow was raped," Giles repeats.

 

            "Actually you said 'Willow was raped, Xander,'" Spike adds.

 

            And I throw up. Get my shoes too. Which really bothers me because they are nice shoes.

 

            I can't suddenly remember why I've thrown up either, just that I was throwing up, had messed up my shoes, was angry because I had done that and…oh...that's right.

 

            Throw up again. Don't nail my shoes this time though, which is good. Happy thoughts…lots of happy thoughts. Threw up, twice, didn't get my shoes this time. Good aim Xander. Let's throw a party.

 

            Why?

 

            Cause I didn't throw up on my shoes twice after hearing how my best friend was ra...ra….

 

            Oh God.

 

            Can't see…can't hear. Can feel though. Can feel LOTS.  Loose thread in my shirt, small dry spot on the inside of my left pant leg, right behind the knee; itched a lot at work. Bad dry spot. Gonna wash you right out of my pants. Acid burns in my throat, felt those...hurt… Can feel the moonbeams on my skin and the grass in my head. Hate...lots of that. There's a whole lot of hating going on and most of it, well, let's not be coy, all of it's spinning around in my guts. Got these big…fiery...well…yeah...fiery...ropey...ropes of hate. Burning and twisting, looping around, choking me and burning and it's for everything and I wanna share it everything...and… I can hear again.

 

            "We don't have time for this."

 

            Hard blow hits me, left side of the face now THAT is burning. Ow.

            I can see again…there's um, um..Spike, that's it, can see Spike holding his head. Muttering; must have forgotten about that chip. Silly vamp, chips are for kids! No, wait; that's not funny.

 

And it's quiet.

 

And I'm back.

 

Maybe.

 

"Giles?" I hear my voice. Wow, my throat is sore, what the hell have I been doing, screaming for the last few minutes?

 

"Xander, are you alright? Can you hear me? You've been screaming for the last few minutes."

 

Typical.

 

"Yeah...yeah…" I manage to croak out. "I-I think I got a hearing problem."

 

"No," That's Spike talking now. Lord I hate that accent. "What you have is a denial problem. Willow,Red, the Witch, y'know who I'm talking about? Her? Yeah. Good. She was raped. Fact. Deal."

 

            Giles is glaring now,at Spike of course, I haven't done anything to earn a full bore 'Gile Glare' since the first time I called him G-Man.

 

"Willow?" I'm muttering now. Glory be.

 

"Yes," Spike says.

 

"She..was…."

 

"You're doing good kid. Keep at it."

 

"Raped?"

 

"On second thought, maybe you do have a hearing problem. I could have ol' Ripper beat you about the head a bit. That's might clear up some bedsprings."

 

I stand up. Giles is backing away giving me a little breathing room- or swinging room.

 

"Spike."

 

"No, really? Where?" Always with the comeback.

 

            "Dru's dead," I say.

 

            "What?" Ah, that got his attention.

 

            "She came by today," I continue. "Selling Avon products. Knocked on my door, asked if I'd like to see the latest in Summer fashions. Reamed her with a broomstick, felt good too."

 

            "What?" Indeed, what, as in what the hell am I doing? Another snappy line, more witty banter. Is that all I'm good for? Is Spike right? Comedy relief?

 

            I grin. I'm grinning, a lot. I don't think I can stop.

 

            "Actually I'm just kidding. As far as I know she's off gallivanting with some denizen from below; like someone from Kansas maybe. Just showing you that I'm not the only one with hearing problems."

 

            Shut up! Shut up! This isn't the time but I can't stop because if I do stop I'm might start screaming again and never come back from it and that would be bad because right now… right now someone needs me.

 

            Shake my head a few times, clear it up, few deep breaths, get the heart pumping…better.

"Ok," I say. "Ok, what makes you think, no, what makes you know Willow was raped?"

 

            Giles steps forward. "Spike here-"

 

            "Phrase your words carefully 'Ripper'," Spike growls. "I don't care for another round of 'Dodge the Looney'."

 

            "Yes, of course," Giles starts over. "Spike was taking a walk and, according to him, he saw Willow walking back to the campus. He claims that he could 'Smell the men on her'."

 

            "Not just that 'Ripper'," Spike cuts in. "Not just that at all. I could, for lack of a better term, smell her shame. And blood, that was running down the inside of one of her legs. Not just blood either. Throw in that I could hear her trying not to cry, plus the tears in her clothing, well, as I said. Fact. Deal." He shrugs.

 

            I really, really, am wishing I had something more to throw up.

 

            I settle for getting angry.

 

            "Who?" I demand.

 

            Spike shrugs again. "Don't know that yet. But I got their scents locked in the skull and me 'Ripper' here are doing a little….hunting. Isn't that right?"

 

            "Yes," Giles says. "It is."

 

            And that's what gets my attention. Not Giles the quiet, informative, librarian, researcher, coach, father figure. But Ripper, and it is Ripper, the demon summoner, the fighter the..the…damn he said that scary. I can relate; I'm feeling pretty scary myself.

 

            "And when we find them?"

 

            Spike is smiling now, and it's not a nice smile at all.

 

            "Hunters don't usually go to the trouble of buying their prey snack cakes and ice cream after tracking them down, I see no reason to break tradition. Do you Harris?"

 

            He's smiling at me now. I'm smiling back.

 

            "No Dead Boy," I say. "No reason at all."

 

 

END-Green


	5. Orange

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents,

A Mad-Hamlet Production

 

                                                              Prisms - Orange

 

 

            I don't want to cut my hair.

 

            I mean again.

 

            I like it how it is, shoulder length. My friends always said it 'framed my face nicely.' But now-

 

            Saw a documentary once about, y'know..women who'd  been raped and their recovery. The one woman I remember above all others; she had...she had a crew cut. She said it was because the man who attacked her grabbed her long hair when she tried to run so she'd decided to never grow it long again. She looked horrible. Her husband was sitting next to her and when, during the interview, she began to um… began to cry he…he put his hand on her knee to comfort her and… It was fast, you had to be really lucky to see it, or unlucky I guess.

 

            She flinched…she gave just a teensy, tiny start and turned her head a little too fast. Like she was twisting around to see who was sneaking up behind her. She forgot. She had forgotten it was her husband behind her, the man she loved. Not the man who had turned her…her…into this.

 

            I don't want to spend the rest of my life like that, afraid. Afraid of my friends just because some of them happen to have a penis. I don't want to feel panicked simply when they touch me, or look at me or ask me how I am. I don't want to be scared of my friends.

 

            And I don't want to cut my hair.

 

            I really don't.

 

            We had gotten back to our room, from where I had basically gone to pieces in the shower. Buffy carried me. I mean it literally. I wasn't in any shape to stumble along much less actually walk. She just picked me up, as if I weighed nothing, draped my towel over me like a blanket, and carried me back to our room.

 

            In that instance I felt safe again. It was…so perfect. Have you ever noticed that when you're fine, feeling perfectly okay that you don't even particularly remember it? Remember the last time you had a headache or something? I mean a really bad headache. And it won't go away and it's pounding incessantly and no matter what you do it's still there just pounding and pounding and pounding. Y'know what I'm talking about?

And you finally give up, can't read, can't watch TV; studying is so ludicrous an option you practically laugh at the concept and being social even more so. So you just give up…go to bed, turn out the lights and try to sleep. Eventually, even with the pounding you do manage to slip off. The next morning you wake up and the first thing you notice is the pain is gone and it feels so wonderful. Not being in pain I mean...just being normal, fine…everyday you. This was a…a…billion times better.

 

            Until she put me down.

 

            I wasn't safe anymore. I was alone! Naked…cold…hurting…in the dark. I wasn't safe, they were going to come after me again…catch me…hold me down and…and…

 

            She must have changed her clothes 'cause when she slipped into the bed beside me she was wearing her flannel jammies. The warm fuzzy ones. I didn't even know I had been whimpering or …something until she lay down beside me gathered me close and began making hushing noises …rocking me…rocking me…going shhhh….shhhh…rocking…shhhh…

 

            I couldn't believe it, I fell asleep.

 

            I had nightmares. Of course I had nightmares. What else could I expect to have?

 

 

 

            Hands.

 

            I had nightmares of hands. Not clawed hands, not demonic limbs or pale undead crawling thingies.

 

            Normal human hands. Some raised in greetings, others reaching out to shake my own, affectionate pats on the back. Reassuring hands, comforting hands…sources of strength and affection. Contact and love but I'm frightened. They scare me and they won't stop. Won't stop touching and comforting, won't stop reassuring me, won't leave me alone and they're getting bigger and softer more like pillow shaped hands just all over me, soft and tender and I'm getting smothered by them, drowning in them and I'm screaming and I'm screaming, screaming, screaming….

 

            Shhhh…being rocked.

 

            I was being rocked by Buffy.

 

            "Shhhh," she said. "Shhhhh."

 

            Back and forth.

 

            "Shhhh," Holding me close.

 

            In the dark.

 

            I'm not safe.

 

            I want to be safe again.

 

            Why can't I be safe?

 

 

 

            I have no idea how long I was asleep. Felt like weeks. But then all my sense of time had been mucked up very nicely. The whole night seemed like my entire lifetime, the ritual with my sisters a distant, distant echo. It was my truth that I held onto. The Truth I had learned, it- .it gave me- it was something I could keep close. Something else kept close to me too even though I wanted nothing more in the universe then to be free of it.

 

            My pain.

 

            Let's not talk about that too much alright? It's not like I could use some fancy, mancy, poetic metaphors or simile to convey the 'depth of my suffering.' You've probably heard stuff like it before and think I was one of those cranks who goes to small bars and listens to beatnik works with lines like 'Don't drink the water, don't drink the water', while wearing a beret.

 

            My pain is there, it's real and is hanging around my neck and if something, or anything would come along and offer to take it…

 

            "Buffy," I said.

 

            "Right here," She said.

 

            "I'm glad," I said.

 

            "Buffy?" I said again.

 

            "Still here," I could feel her arms around me. Strong arms, powerful arms. Slayer arms. I wanted arms like that.

 

            "I want to find them."

 

            "We will," Her chin was resting on the top of my head and my own was nestled against her chest.

 

            "I mean tonight."

 

            She didn't say anything for a while, didn't tell me the time wasn't right, or I still had things to come to grips with. She just thought for a bit, rolling around my declaration in her. I needed her for that, her trust.

 

            "Why?" she finally asked.

 

            "Not vengeance," I said. It was the truth too. I didn't want revenge I wanted something more primal, more basic.

 

            "So I can feel safe," I finally answered.

 

Buffy remained silent for a few more moments.

 

            "Okay."

 

            I will love her forever. She didn't ask me if I was sure, wasn't worried I might not be able to handle it. I don't know if I can. But…with that response with her simple 'okay' she…she…followed through on her promise. She trusts me; she'll always be there for me. I can believe that now, I really can.

 

            Then someone knocked on the door.

 

            I curled into her embrace even more. I had gone all fetal on her. Wrapped in her arms, in a warm robe, feeling her fuzzy pajamas nestled next to me cheek. I could feel her eyes on me, in the dark.

 

            Whoever they were knocked again. Not a harsh knock, but quiet and tentative.

 

            I could feel her eyes on me, I tilted my head up a bit and, with the light of the moon on them, I could see them too. I gave her the teensiest of nods. I'm still surprised I was that strong. She closed her eyes, nodded in return and got off the bed.

 

            From famine to feast and back to famine again. Or something. She…she just got off the bed and it was as if she was in another time. I could see her, hear her, but… she was gone. And it was just me again, again with my cold.

 

            She opened the door a crack, the ray of light from the hallway speared into the room and I could see her shoulders slump.

 

            "C'mon in," she said and turned on the lights.

 

            Holding the door open she stepped aside and in walked the last people I wanted to see on the face of this Earth. I couldn't deal with this; I didn't want to deal with this. Just…just wanted to go back to being with Buffy, in a dark room, for just a little while longer. Then...then go out, find those responsible…do something and come back here.   That's it. Over. Go back to my life, dabble in some magic, the odd patrol with Buffy, lunch with Xander…the Bronze. Just- just stuff.

 

            But that wasn't an option and realistically never had been. Doesn't mean I couldn't want it though.

 

            Spike sauntered through the entranceway like he does everywhere else. As if he didn't care. Didn't look at me, just brushed off some dust that wasn't there from my bed and sat down.

 

            Giles came up behind him; he was wearing his black shirt and leather jacket.

He wasn't wearing his glasses either. He looked at me. It wasn't a bad look, not condescending or disappointed.

 

            Finally he nodded before sitting down at the desk.

 

            "Hello," he said.

 

            I bravely did not shriek and dive under the covers.

 

            "Hi."

 

            Xander was the worst. He locked eyes with me and I couldn't look away, I'm guessing he couldn't either. It was like he was trying to see inside me, wondering where his friend was in this pale girl that just happened to have the same hair and eye color.

 

            He took a step toward the bed and I'm being totally honest when I say I really, really, tried to not crawl backwards away from him but I couldn't. It was too powerful, just this wave of panic rising up and over what ever resistances I had. I jerked back a good couple'a inches.

 

            Xander froze, I could see that I had hurt him, I can't say it was in his eyes 'cause he turned his head to fast for me to see. But the clenched jaw line and how he wearily was rubbing his forehead was clue enough. He sat down next to Spike and if he was aware he sitting directly next to someone he would have happily seen dusted, he gave no sign. He wasn't looking at me anymore, he was studying his shoes. Out of a lifetime of habit of looking where others were I glanced at his shoes too.

 

Ick.

 

            He caught me looking at…his shoes and raised his eyebrows, his 'shrug without actually moving his shoulders' look. I couldn't help it, I smiled.

 

            He smiled.

 

            I smiled.

            We both smiled.

 

            And I just burst out crying, for no reason it just happened and I couldn't stop. Through the tears I saw Xander, now reduced to a fuzzy blob, stand up and move towards me with his arms open. I screamed and shot backwards away from him, fell off the bed. Landed on my butt. Another bruise…oh well…I could add it to my collection.

 

            That just made me cry harder…Buffy's arms wrapped around me and I stumbled back onto the bed. Yay. I can stumble now, in a few hours I'd be teetering drunkenly like a pro.

 

            Xander wasn't looking at me anymore. He wasn't looking at his shoes either, no now he was studiously engaged in memorizing the pattern on our stucco ceiling.

 

            I wanted to apologize, I wanted to reach out and hug him and know that I could trust his hugs, his arms, trust his hands not to wander or watch for leers or ..or...anything like that. But I couldn't do that anymore, it...something..I…I wouldn't let me.

 

            Buffy sat down next to me and pulled my head onto her shoulder, I felt...a little better at that. Like she was less unsafe then anything else.

 

            "Ok," she said. "You found out. How?"

 

            That's Buffy. Straight and to the point. Go Buff! Sis-rah-boom-bah..yay Buffy!

 

            God…why? Why? Why? Why?

 

            Giles started to speak when Spike cut him off.

 

            "Me," That got my attention.

 

            "You?" I felt Buffy tense up.

 

            "Ease off, Summers. I was out of my sabbatical when she was walking down the road. I was behind her, about half a block. I spotted her and…I really think we all would be better off if tell you alone."

 

            "No, that's ok," I said. "I can handle it. Really."

 

            Spike shot me a pitying look. Not a 'Poor you' pitying look but a 'You pathetic wretch. You are not as strong as you think you are' look.

 

He then shrugged his shoulders.

 

"If that's the way you want it," He looked back at Buffy. "I could smell it on her."

 

            I felt like I was about to throw up. Briefly, I wondered if I could borrow one of Xander's shoes.

 

            "Smell it on her?" Buffy asked. "Smell what exactly?" Oh, God no Buffy I wanted to say, wanted to beg, plead, just get her to let it go.

 

            Spike looked at me now. "Everything."

 

            And I was running. A second ago I had been barely able to crawl and now I was flying down the halls faster then I had ever run from a night beastie in my life. Robe flapping, one hand clapped over my mouth just…just…running.

 

            I barely made it, got over a the bowl and let everything out. When I ran out of that my stomach kept trying it's darndest to find something to add. Predictably Buffy was there an instant later. Kneeling beside me, looking worried. She didn't touch me though; somehow she knew that would have been a bad move. Just was there and let me do my thing, waiting, until I was finished.

 

"Jesus," I said. "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus...oh Jesus.." I think the Goddess would forgive a little slip in lieu of the circumstances.

 

            "I can't do this Buffy. I can't ..I can't. I want too but I can't. I just… Just...can we be alone? Get them to leave? Be alone…for a little while, please?"

 

            I was crying again and I was sick of it. How many tears did I have anyway? I was tired of hurting and crying and being afraid and wasn't even through the first day!

 

            Again I was pulled into a hug. And again her arms were around me, warm, strong… I could feel her hair brushing along my face, my tears getting smeared between the skin of her neck and my cheek. Taste some of my own salt.

 

            At least, at the very least, I wasn't getting tired of her hugs.

 

            "Ok Willow," She murmured into my ear. "No sweat, we'll go back there...together...you and me and we'll ask them to leave and we'll sit in the dark, I'll hold you till you sleep and I'll keep holding you keeping the nightmares away. All right?"

 

            "All right."

 

            I didn't notice I wasn't the only one crying until I felt the drops of hot water hit my own neck. She had hidden it well. I didn't know, didn't have any idea, until that very second exactly how deeply this was hurting her too. Everyone probably. 'Cept Spike, but even he was acting uncomfortable.

 

            But did I have to be respectful of that? I mean...this had happened to me! To me! Not them, me! Didn't I, at the very least, have the right to be the tiniest bit selfish?

 

            I did the hardest thing in my entire life right then. Well, the hardest thing I had ever done until the next hardest thing came along. There's always another. But in that instant I did the hardest thing I had ever done up to that point.

 

            I changed my mind.

 

            "No. Buffy wait," my head was still buried in the crux of her shoulder but I wasn't crying anymore. It had just…switched off. "I…I don't want them to leave, I need them to be there, I don't want them too but …and they need to be there too. I can't blame them for wanting to make sure I'm okay. I mean I'm not okay but I'm still here and I can't blame them for wanting to make sure I'm still here and I'll go slow and careful but, but, but I really don't want them to leave. Really I don't.

 

            I felt her hand under my chin and she slowly tilted my head up till I was looking into her eyes. I'd been doing that a lot lately, staring into people's eyes I mean.

 

            "Hey," she whispered. "I got yer back ok?" Then she gave me a quick kiss on the forehead, a smile and a wink, and pulled me to my feet.

 

            Oh, I could have flown! She had done it again, just trusted me absolutely and said what I needed to hear more than anything else and I have no idea how she did so perfectly but I was flying in my mind and I didn't hurt anymore and I wasn't tired and I could feel my cheeks threatening to split apart I was grinning so widely and…and…and she took me back to the room.

 

            Maybe…maybe they didn't kill my Truth after all.

 

 

 

            Buffy was helping me along when we got back to the room; the others looked up at me as I came in. Buffy closed the door behind us. I heard the lock slide into place with a click and was glad.

 

            Spike was now standing against the wall just inside the door while Giles and Xander were still sitting where they had been when I …left.

 

            "Willow?" Xander said and began to stand up then caught himself and sat back down. He must have remembered my behaviour from a few minutes before. Buffy helped me back to her bed and sat back next to me making sure I was wrapped in her embrace the entire time.

 

            I caught Xander's eyes with my own before speaking.

 

"Um...guys…I just wanted to say that…I'm sorry for wigging out like that and…and that I'm really glad you came. Really. I'm.sorry..really,just- sorry." I was addressing the group but he knew I was also talking to him, just to him.

 

I           saw a half smile on his face and he gave me a silent wave of his hand, a 'pish-posh, twern't nothing' gesture and I echoed his smile with my own. Felt good to smile, a smile I understood, really it did.

 

"Perfectly understandable Willow," Giles replied. "We're just relieved to see that...um…that is..

 

            "That you're not a comatose rutabaga in a padded cell somewhere or a cooling corpse in a the morgue, yet. That's what Brit-Boy here is trying to say." Spike interrupted. He was picking his teeth with his pinky.

 

            Giles simply sighed. "Not quite what I had in mind…now. I suppose you're wondering why we're all gathered here?"

 

            "Hey G-Man, isn't that line 'I suppose you're wondering why I called you all here today?'"

 

            I laughed.

 

            I actually laughed! It was so comforting, they hadn't changed. They still treated me the same, not like fine china or something broken and barely put together that you had to tiptoe around. Yes, yes it had happened and no matter how I wished it could unhappen but…I was still me and they all still saw me as me. I was still part of the gang.

 

            Giles: The father figure offering advice and information.

 

            Buffy: My best friend and …confidant, protector.

 

            Xander: My brother, still cracking jokes.

 

            Spike…still…wanting to kill me...us…I guess.

 

            Bliss.

 

            "Spike can find them."

 

            Giles just dropped that on the floor and I froze. I said I had wanted to find them, and I was really going to look but the actual possibility of 'finding them' finding them…I considered ...not...not really likely.

 

            "How?" I asked.

 

            "Simple Red, the nose knows," he tapped the side of his 'knowing nose' and glanced at Buffy. "I said I smelled them so I can track them. Easy.

 

"So we'll find them and then," Xander smacked one fist into the palm of his other hand. He looked…dangerous.

 

            "And…and then?"

 

            I didn't know who said that and was looking around for the speaker until I noticed everyone was staring at me.

 

            "That's a question you'll have to answer yourself, Willow," Buffy said quietly.

 

            I sat there…after we find them...what then? I had told Buffy I didn't want revenge and I really didn't; at least I didn't think so. I know I didn't want to 'ask them why'. What answer could they give me? At best, even with the threat of an angry Slayer, I could hope for would be mumbles and various 'I dunnos'.

 

            At worst…

 

            What did I want after the 'and then.'?

 

            "You kill them!"

 

            I jumped.

 

            Spike was standing in front of me looking more hellish than I had ever seen him. It wasn't a threat of violence, of blood, and death, that was oozing off of him; it was the fact of it. Even more terrifying is he wasn't in his vamp look. He still looked perfectly human but…he was standing over me, towering really. All black, except for his hair and the power…just ..blazing down at me.

 

            He wasn't a demon.

 

            He wasn't a sadistic vampire.

 

            He wasn't Spike.

 

            He was a God.

 

            "They took you," He snarled. "They used you, reduced everything you are to a lump on the pavement. What they took you can never have back completely. It will live with you, inside like an infestation that's incurable. You can learn to go on with it, you can even learn to ignore it but no matter what, no… matter…what…you do will still always be with 'it'. And the memories of 'it', and the taint of 'it' will always, always be there!"

 

            It was very, very quiet.

 

            "Uh..Spike..I really don't think you're in a position to judge," Xander said.

 

            Spike was on him in a heartbeat; one fully taloned hand drifting in front of Xander's face and I found myself really hopping that whoever had made that chip inside Spike's head hadn't been the lowest bidder.

 

            "Oh yes, Harris. You are so right. To me you are food and when satisfied I do enjoy playing with it. I like hurting you, watching you dance and stringing along the game but at least when I'm through it is over…and you're someplace better. You hope."

 

            He turned his back on Xander and wearily walked back to the his place by the door…relaxed...normal…neutered, killer, vampire Spike.

 

            "At least…at the very least…you get a little respect from me," he said. "The people who did this…" he waved his hand in my direction. "To Red, I doubt very much they even remember what she looks like."

 

            He looked up.

 

            "So what's it gonna be luv?"

 

            My mouth was hanging open, his words, they should have hurt me. They should have opened up the well of memories that, before his speech, I could feel threatening to overwhelm me but now…just…grey. Stomach wasn't even queasy.

 

            I…

 

            I…didn't know.

 

            I felt Buffy arms wrap around me from behind and I turned so I could face her.

 

            "Willow, I'll follow your lead on this, but I gotta tell you, and I'll deny it if it ever comes up, I'm with Spike on this one. They hurt you, whoever 'they' are the second they did hurt you they lost all rights to a name, a face, a memory. I don't care about what good they might have done in the past, or what good they might do in the future. They hurt you, my friend, my Willow. I want to kill them. I really, really do…just…use my Slayer strength to see how many times I can bounce them off walls before they break. But...if that's not what you want…" She let the sentence drift off.

 

            "Okay Buffy," damnit, I could feel tears beginning to flow around behind my eyeballs. I really didn't want to cry again. I took her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. Looks like I didn't have a choice about crying…neither did Buffy.

 

            From behind me I heard Spike muttering, "I don't see why I even bother. This is really sad."

 

            Giles stood up. "I think it's best that whatever we're going to do we do it quickly. There are only a few hours left before dawn," He looked at me. "No matter what happens Willow, we'll put this to rest."

 

            "Yeah," I nodded up at him. Tears and a big grin? I must have looked terrible. "Yeah. We will."

 

            With a nod Giles stepped to the door, unlocked it which I suddenly didn't mind,  grabbed Spike by the arm and dragged him out into the hallway. I heard Spike give a 'Hey, watch the material!' before the door shut.

 

            Xander slowly walked toward me. He really was being a dear…making sure to not being threatening in any possible way. He did his best, really, but he looked like he was moving in slow motion. I couldn't help but giggle a bit.

 

            He crouched down so we were eye to eye, with me being a little bit taller. I felt okay…really. Buffy was sitting behind be, arms wrapped around my shoulders, best friend behind me, best friend in front of me.

 

            Not best female friend behind me and best male friend in front of me.

 

            Just best friends.

           

            Really.

 

            "Willow," He said. "You're gonna be fine. I want to kill them too, more than anything. But, like the Buff-O-Matic there said, I'll follow your lead."

 

            Tears wouldn't stop. Darn it.

 

            "Thanks," It was all I could get out.

 

            He smiled, not a big 'Here's Xander!' smile just…those quiet smiles he sometimes got.

 

            "So you got a happy?" he asked.

 

            I thought about that. "No. But I'm pretty well on my way despite everything."

 

            He held out his hand, palm up with his fingers spread. I echoed the gesture interlocking my fingers between his and then slowly closing them. He didn't close his though, kept his hand open so I knew I could let go and get away whenever I wanted. No big, pillow hands to drown me here.

 

            Despite the fact that every instinct in me shrieked I gave his arm an almighty tug and pulled him into a hug. So there I was, sandwiched between the two most wonderful people in the world.

 

            Safe.

 

            And I really didn't care that one of them happened to have a penis.

 

            We stayed like that for a little while.

 

            "Xander, I'm sorry but, you have to leave 'cause I gotta change."

 

 

END-Orange


	6. Red

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents,  
A Mad-Hamlet Production

Prisms - Red

Oh, I have to get out of here.

I mean I REALLY have to get out of here. It's awful. I come along to offer my services in the hunt not be part of some 'Bonding'. Awful, awful, awful…scary even.

And I'm not jealous. I just want out. Out, find the bad guys, spread them over the tarmac, bid the others a good eve, watch some soaps and get a snooze.

But nnnooooo…I have to hang around and basically be assaulted by 'care bear' antics. It's was almost a relief when the Watcher drags me out of the room. Almost. I can still hear them. Crying, laughing, crying again- a big emotional slug fest. I myself would have preferred a normal slug fest, y'know, the ones involving actual fists.

After waiting for what feels like too damn long I brush past the Watcher, poke my head in the door. They're hugging again. I close my eyes, just can't stand to see.

"Excuse me," I say with my eyes still tightly shut. "I'm going to go outside and have me a smoke. If you should take too much longer I would greatly appreciate it that you bury my ashes with a pack of cigarettes."

From the jumble of hugging humanity I hear Summer's voice.  
"You are unconditionally uninvited Spike."

Mumbling "Thank the bloody gods for that," I shut the door.

I catch the Watcher giving me an amused look.

"Kids," I snort.

Exactly three smokes later they join me outside.

Red looks a little better. She's dressed in jeans, and a light jacket. What kind of shirt she's wearing I do not know or care. The Slayer is beside her, like they are glued to each other. I catch a glimpse of Red's hand, the one that's gripping the Slayer's. White knuckled, all the way; they won't be separated easily.

"So," I say. "Shall we depart?"  
With a bow I offer to let Red take point and of course all she does is shake her head and huddle up next to Summers. I really shouldn't provoke her. It's just so much fun to do so.

**

I should be worried. I've always seen my younger charges as family and the behaviour they are exhibiting should make me concerned. Willow seems to have recovered almost completely from her ordeal mere hours after the fact. This is an impossibility and I fear that she will suffer some sort of backlash. Particularly with her accompanying us on this 'mission of vengeance' it is almost a certainty.

But I'm not paying much attention to these concerns at the moment. My hands itch far too much for me to concentrate on such matters. They long to be wrapped around the throats of the …things responsible for this night.

I find myself wondering how high I could make them squeal. How loud? And most importantly, how long? The others want the same thing I do. To take the pain and put it inside them, to see their eyes haunted and afraid. But that will never happen, male bravado and their very short lifespan assure that. Or that's how I see things.

It is fascinating. Of the one mind I am still somewhat put off by this whole ring-a-ma-role. Being unsure that I can actually kill someone- again. Many a demon, or vampire, or other agent of supernatural evil has fallen by my hand and I fully expect someday to fall to one of theirs. But the nagging sensation that questions my ability to actually end another human's life is oddly muted though I am fully aware of it's questioning.

"Can you do it Giles?"  
"Is it right Giles?"  
"Isn't this personal Giles?"

Of the second mind…well that is simple.

"Yes Ripper."  
"Yes Ripper."  
"Oh yeesss..Ripper."

"G-Man, you alright?" Xander asks me as we leave the dorm. "That is a really unpleasant smile you're wearing."

"Oh, er...yes Xander, I'm fine."

The others want their 'pound of flesh' as well. I can tell.

Well, they'll have to stand in line.

Seniority rules and all that.

Just a librarian indeed.

**

Won't leave her behind again. Not gonna do it, not gonna happen. She's never going to be alone again, strictly unalone twenty four-seven. Twenty five-eight if needed. Be right there for everything ..everything…her wedding, hell her wedding night...who know's she might fall for a demon or something. Childbirth? Gonna be there. Gonna, gonna, gonna.

I should join the Wiccans too. Can I do that? Being a slayer?  
What would that make me?

A Sliccan?

It doesn't matter I will be there, I have to be there. I can't let her get hurt again. I won't let her get hurt like that again. I can't protect her from everything, I'm not that crazy. Paper cuts will happen, stubbed toes too…sharp edges on beer cans; can't stop that kind of stuff but the big stuff? Nope. Life is knives and it's foolish to think I can stop all of them. Wouldn't be fantastically healthy either but nothing's gonna cut her like this, never gonna let her get cut this deep again.

Not gonna happen to Willow. Not my Willow.

Won't let her get hurt.

Can't let her get hurt.

Hold her close, protect her always gonna protect her, just like I should have…just  
Like...just….

I have to.

It's not something I have a choice in. I have to protect her because…because…

I have a Secret.

**

Ooohh man this is so uncool yet…not. But I can deal, can cope. In the words of a great twentieth century poet I'm 'jiggy with it.'

'Cause I'm gonna kill someone. Several someone's in fact. It'll be odd and I might find that I'm hating myself for some time to come…later. Right now, at this very second I'm pretty sure I'll be hating myself if I don't kill the someone.

The Someone Bunch, being butchered by a Xander near you. Fun for the whole family, let the kiddies tag along. Angst, drama, friendship, tragedy, comedy and vengeance in one little package.

Best of all it's for free.

BYOP…bring your own popcorn.

I don't get it. I can feel it on my outside. Cold, ruthlessness cold. My face is set in stone and I don't think I could giggle if Barney walked out in front of me and got hit by truck. It's sliding over my skin like a...a…second…skin…and..

Start over.

It's sliding over my skin like …THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING...no...thinking about!!

I'm ready to put my fist through someone's head. I have no weapons that's about the only thing I can do, unless I pick something up along the way. I know I can do it… There's this absolute resoluteness to the whole way I'm feeling, it's almost surreal. Yet here…right here I'm babbling and tossing stupid jokes…to who? Honestly I ask you is there anyone else around in here?

And Buffy would respond 'Thump, thump, hollow sound.'

Or she would…if I said anything. But even if I said anything now the most I'd probably get is a pained smile. From Willow.

Buffy's so wrapped up IN Willow that I doubt she'd snap too if The Master and Angelus drifted by doing the Cha-Cha. I mean…look at her...just LOOK AT HER. She's not looking where we're going just drifting down the street eyes on Willow whose eyes are on Buffy whose eyes are of Willow whose eyes…

I'm feeling left out.

It's not okay either. Yes we seemed okay in the dorm, yes Willow hugged me and I even managed to almost ignore it when she stiffened just a little bit. It's there and she seems to have bounced back so fast but it's still there. No matter what happens tonight we're just at the beginning and something has…marked us...marked Willow. And we have only begun to feel the impact of its…its… ITS. The 'It' Spike talked about.

It is still there and It will never not be there again. And I want It not to be…want it so much that I can feel the nails on my tosies rolling up because even they are..

If Moses supposes his toeses are roses then Moses supposes erroneously 'cause Moses toeses aren't bunches of roses as Moses supposes his toeses may be.

I'm going to kill someone tonight and suddenly I am SO very cool with that.

**

Didn't take too long.  
To find the place where 'it' happened. Bloody figures too. Right in someone's back yard. I could smell it. Same thing I smelled on her.

We all know it at almost the exact same time, me because of my senses and the others because Red just freezes solid. She hadn't been looking where we were, her eyes had been on the Almighty Slayer the entire time. I knew a split second before she did when she happens to glance up from her 'adoring gaze', she looks up, took in the scenery and …statue time.

She just stands straight, stiff as a board eyes wide open. Under full moon her green eyes really stood out. Red hair and the green eyes rather angel like. Whoever they were I couldn't begrudge them their taste in women.

Tsk tsk William, such thoughts.

Bad boy.

 

Buffy just grabs the Witch, turns her around and pulls her into yet another hug. Good lord, why not just ask for some thread and a needle, I'd happily sew the two of you together. Xander too joins the little huddle but does not actually touch the two women leaving the Watcher standing behind them looking uncomfortable.

"Wait here," I say. "I'll be right back." And vanish into the darkness.

It's a back yard. Small suburban house, sun deck, round pool for the kiddies. Lights on in the windows too. Whoever was inside that house probably heard. Didn't do anything obviously.

None of our business they think.  
Doesn't really matter they think.

I move them to the top of the list of people I plan to use as munchies before going after the Slayer after I get this chip removed. A warm up exercise. I find the spot where the rape took place. Yes it was a rape, sanitizing the word by replacing it with 'it's and 'that's' is a bloody waste of time. Doesn't change anything and probably winds up causing more pain in the long run.

Mental note: Refer to the rape as 'it' from here on out.

My, my, a heady experience. I'm getting quite a buzz from being in the vicinity.  
Willow was obviously here and ..ah…our two friends. Definitely two. Such pain in the air as well. It's almost palatable. Some poltergeist will make it a lovely home someday.

I backtrack the scent and follow it around the house to the sidewalk. Then I turn around and return to the Huggabunch. Summers is still comforting Red who was is staring into space, not really home at all. Can't say as I blame her as much, if this was home I'd want to be somewhere else too.

"I found the trail," I say. "We can go around."

Buffy nods and carefully leads the Witch away from her personal Hellmouth.

Heh, I like that, 'Personal Hellmouth'. Going to have to remember that one.

**

We leave the house behind. I mark it in my memory with a mental note to return one night with a can of gasoline. Burn it to the ground, just ..all of it. Leave nothing behind, nothing to remain as a landmark to my...yes...yes…daughter is the right word…my daughters pain. The people inside are just as responsible for this tragedy as those we hunt right now. Restitution demands payment.

I believe Churchill said it best. 'For Evil to triumph it requires only that good men do nothing.'

Come now Giles, I mentally chide myself, you cannot really expect to burn someone's house down, possibly put their entire family in dire peril just to satisfy your baser instincts. Just because they were cowardly wretches who no doubt listened to the screams of a girl lost and did nothing. Just because these are the people me and mine have risked our lives, our very souls to protect. No, I couldn't do anything so rash.

'Ah,' I hear Ripper. 'But I can.'

Oh...well...yes...yes that is true I suppose.

**

"You know they probably heard everything."

I look up from my musing to see Spike strolling next to me.

"The people in the house where Red was...um…entertained. They probably heard everything. Didn't do lickity though. Typical humans. Shame really, maybe could have prevented the whole thing."

He shrugs. "Guess we'll never know now. Hey Xand-Man, where ya goin'?

I glare over my shoulder at him. "Why to sell some Girl Scout cookies Spike-Baby."

He reaches over and lazily hoists me off the ground with one hand. "Cool yer' jets Harris. They'll get what's coming to them. In fact," His features shift and all pretence at humanity he has are- we call it a vamps 'Game Face' but it's not really a funny game. I'd actually like my money back. Please.

"Payback's a bitch!" he says through his fangs.

"And just how will you, oh Chippified one, be able to enact said payback?" I mumble; I am painfully aware that my toes are a good six inches off the ground.

"A temporary condition I assure you," Spike says and drops me, resuming his normal appearance. He sounds somewhat grumpy all of a sudden, like his fun time didn't go as he had hoped.

Good.

I look at Buffy and Willow. The Buffmiester has one arm around Willow's waist, can't hear what she's saying, it could be nothing, could be everything...so long as it distracts Willow. Don't let her see, don't let her feel. I suppose that's an all right thing, no it is an all right thing.

Still can't help but feel a little left out again though. When did I lose base with them anyway? High school? They're roommates now so I guess there is something about living with someone that I can't compete with...not that we're competing.

My place is here, at the front. Right, I can believe that. The avenging male warrior going out to see the things done wrong put right. That's me, the ..already used warrior...and avenger...the um…Neanderthal.

Oh man.

**

The scent is very clear now. Leads right to where I thought it would; a little, nothing, ramshackle hole-in-wall establishment. Only one actual window, the others are boarded over, a flurry of neon signs outside all of them having at least one burnt out letter. A large number of motorbikes out front with women of 'questionable origins' hanging all over them.

It's like coming home.

"In there," I point.

Buffy, hey she actually managed to pry herself away from the Witch; funny I didn't see anyone with a crowbar, comes up beside me.

"You sure?" she asks.

"Positive. The scent backtracks here from the…place. Returns here too. Seems, whoever they are, had a little something to drink, sought out some 'entertainment' and came back to 'relive the highlights' I'd wager."

"They still there?"

"No scent to say otherwise."

She reaches up and pats me on my head. "Good boy, Scooby."

Being characteristically the modest chap that I am let it pass over me though I will confess images of slayer corpses in various states of decomposition do swim invitingly in front of my eyes. Instead of giving in to the urge to snarl, just this once, I simply look at her with raised eyebrows.

"Biscuit?"

"What?" She looks confused now.

"I want a biscuit. You said 'good boy' now, give me a biscuit."

"I uh...don't have a biscuit," From behind I can hear Red give a small giggle. She is a strong lass isn't she?

"Fine then," I say striding toward the entrance. "You're buying the beer."

I enter ahead of them in case the crowd at the door gets a little…uppity. What timing, it would seem one of women of unsure morals has damaged the zipper on her leather vest. The rest seem to be distracted; a perfect entrance if I ever saw one.

The inside definitely brings back memories. A well lit bar runs along one side of the room with several decades of various carving on its surface. The liquid in the bottles is probably fatal and the 'bartender' even more so. Despite the lights the corners of the room are shadowed with the only other light source being the one over the pool table. It would be remiss to not have a heavy cloud of cigarette smoke. Any youngling childe would probably pass out from the overwhelming load on the senses if the call of so much blood didn't knock them ass over teakettle first. The fact that I can't have any of it does make me cranky.

The rest come up behind me, walking in a protective circle with Red at the center who is again, looking frightened and very pale. One extreme to the other Red? You really should settle on a median and stick with it.

"Well?" Buffy nudges me. "Where are they?"

Oh dear.

She's got that look in her eye that does not bode well for anyone on the receiving end of her anger. Or anyone in a five mile radius. I carefully glance downward and see she still is holding hands with the Witch; a very tight grip, any bit more and Red will be suffering from not only a broken spirit but a broken hand.

I lean over and whisper into the Slayer's ear. "First off Summers, this will take a few minutes as there are a hell of lot of conflicting smells to sort through. Secondly, you might want to ease off on the pressure for Red back there, I'm not quite sure she'd appreciate having her hand ground to powder."

She shoots me an angry look but lets up the pressure a tad. I think. I look back at Red and it doesn't look like she's noticed. She's standing absolutely rigid, eyes really, wide. This is a guess but I figure if I used my full vampiric strength I might be able to slip a piece of paper in between her and the Slayer.

Bringing her here was a bad idea.

"Hey, Red…you in there?" I wave my hand in front of her face and she blinks a few times.

"You sure you up to this Red?" I ask again still waving my hand in her face then, with a speed I cannot help but envy, she grabs my hand.

"It's...cold." she whispers.

"Well, yeah, that's because it's dead."

"Cold and...hard…strong right? Can grow big long talons that can carve through flesh...right?"

I nod slowly, I can feel Summers' eyes boring into me. This is very bad.

"That's right Red," I say in what I hope is a soothing tone. Haven't had to use one in fifty years. "Very strong, very cold and it can and has done many terrible things in its history of being attached to my wrist."

Red just looks at me for a second before letting my hand drop.

"Good," she leans forward and whispers in my ear. "That means it won't turn into a pillow and try and drown me."

Bloody hell!

The Witch turns back to Buffy. "Can we sit down? My- I'm feeling kind of tired."

You're not the only one Red.

"There's a booth over here Willow," Xander cuts in.

"Not there Harris, it's too far back. That one," and I point to a booth near the open window. "Air currents will let me find em' fast too."

"Whatever man, you're the bloodhound."

"You have no idea."

**

It has been many, many years since I was last in an 'establishment' such as this. Wonderful how quickly it all comes back. Like riding a bicycle. We ease ourselves into our seats. Buffy and Willow sit across from us, the two of them doing their utmost to remain in physical contact at all times. Buffy hasn't said anything since we left the dorm, except to whisper to Willow and demand results from Spike, the rest of us may as well not even be here.

I know where she is right now. What Xander playfully refers to as 'Slayer-Mode'. Everything except what she considers her responsibility is outside her scope of caring. If it furthers her end goals she'll speak aloud but other than that we simply do not exist. I should speak up, should say how this does not involve her actual Slayer duties. I would be well within my rights to even insist she not even be here and instead be out patrolling or researching some evil. At the very least resting up for whatever ever real challenge may yet be coming.

I doubt I'd survive the experience.

It doesn't matter much though. I'm where she is too. An empty place that keeps the waves of…I'm not poetic enough for this. What matter though is that I can relate to what she is...what everyone is ..not feeling. Better put, not allowing themselves to feel. We are all so far beyond a typical 'Watcher-Slayer' situation. We are family and one of our us has been injured. Therefore we are acting as a family, gathering together for support and, going out to ...what was the line from that horrible movie they made me watch? 'Kick ass and chew bubblegum. And we're all outta' gum.'

Spike has returned. He's carrying a platter with five empty glasses and a pitcher of beer.

"I know, this stuff is probably horrible but help yourselves. It hasn't killed me yet."

He slides in the seat next to Buffy.

"We're not here to drink Spike!" Xander snaps.

"True, true," Spike lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag before continuing. "But other people do, and we stand out bad enough as it is. So, try and fit in."

"He's right," I say. "We should try and 'fit in' as it were." And I reach for the pitcher.

"Would yoo like a pint of bitter guvna'?" Spike says doing a terrible mimicry of a cockney accent.

I ignore him and pour beer into separate glasses. Xander grabs his and takes a swallow while Buffy picks up two of the glasses, one for herself and the other she places in front of Willow. I reach for my own glass and take sip. Part of my mind absently informs me this is the worst beer I've ever tasted. The majority of it doesn't care so I take another sip.

Buffy hasn't touched her own and Willow is simply looking at the Slayer's hand clasped in her lap.

No one says anything. Just sit and wait for Spike to tell us he's found them.

**

Why are we here? We should be back in the dorm, I should be holding her and ...and maybe singing her a lullaby so she can sleep. My mom knew some wonderful lullabies and she'd sing them to me when I couldn't sleep, when I was convinced there were monsters under the bed and they wanted to get me.

I've fucked up so badly.

We all know now, and have for some time, that the monsters under the bed were and are real. I've tried my best to keep them away from my friends, okay, I've messed up sometimes but this...

Why her? Why someone as innocent and caring as Willow? Why not..why not me? I could handle it, hell, they wouldn't have gotten a hand on me..I would have scattered them and ...and...I…

Will not cry, not here. Damnit exercise some control Summers.

She's looking at me. She's not accusing me with her eyes…she's...she's...worried about me.

I don't- I don't deserve her concern. I failed her I should have been there and now she's hurt and she's worried about me...damnit I will not cry!

I grab my glass and swallow half of the beer. Eww...that is really bad tasting stuff.

She's still looking at me. Guess I'm the staked one now.

She reaches out with one hand and slowly brushes some of the hair out my eyes. "It's not your fault," she murmurs. I can feel the others eyes on us and my instinct to run, to just grab Willow and go through a wall if needed, is almost all consuming.

I open my mouth to ..to..get her to shut up ..to stop being nice to me to…to start accusing me or...get her angry or something! Something I can handle…something I can use to beat myself up with. Something I deserve but she cuts me off.

"It's not your fault." She says again before taking my hand, the one still resting in her lap. "We'll talk about it later."

Now I'm wondering just who might wind up singing lullabies to who when this is all over. When did I become the protected one?

"That was a true Hallmark moment."

I really have to kill Spike one of these days.

**

Cold glass is burning into my hand. Hurts a bit but nothing 'The Xander' can't handle. Nope, no problems here. The problems are over there. With Willow and Buffy. They're close, too close. Air would have a hard time getting in with how protective Buffy is being.

It's not fair. I've known Willow a lot longer than her, I was there for Willow for years when it was us against the entire Sunnydale Youth Population of Doom. We even dated! Alright we were five but that still counts for something. And now, neither of them are even looking at me.

Hey! Over here! That's right!! Friend here; friend me.. Me am good friend too. Hello!! Anyone noticing me? Bipedal? Dark haired? Known for a rather bizarre sense of humour and an inability to keep my mouth shut? Undeniably male?

Of course that's the problem now isn't it? They're not ignoring me because of who I am, they're ignoring all of us because of what we are.

Penile enhanced life forms.

And I don't know who to be angry at. The…er...them because of what they did, Willow and Buffy for starting to distrust me simply because of what I have...all right that was nursery school thinking if there ever was any. What next, I've got an outty?

I think I'll blame the proverbial 'them'. The trust between Willow and myself, why not add in the whole crew, the bond between the entire gang has been thrown into turmoil cause of them. 'Cause of what they did. Soon as Spike finds 'em for us they will no longer be proverbial. They will merely be 'ex' as in an 'ex-them.'

Buffy's asking Spike again if he's got which person in this dive are the ones we want.

He's saying no.

He's lying. I know I can tell. It's that little smirk he's got. A little 'whoops' and the corner of his mouth up tilts a good ninety degrees. Aaannnddd…now he's looking at me...sure…wiggle those eyebrows Spike...way to be cool.

Ok, so he knows I know he's lying and that means…I have no idea. I could tell Buffy ..but that ..probably wouldn't do any good so I guess I'll sit here and..

Work on my art.

Shit.

**

Caught Harris giving me the hairy eyeball. Guess he knows I'm fibbing. Course I'm fibbing. I locked onto the prey the second we walked in the place. I'm just having so much fun right now.

Yes, granted what happened to the chit was a 'real tragedy and something should never have happened to anyone like her.' I'll agree with that something like that shouldn't happen to her. Something like ME should happen to Glinda, good witch of the South.

No, that's not fair. She's hurtin'. Poor kid. Hurtin' really bad and I just can't bring myself to wanna hurt her right now. Wait till she's happy again.

THEN hurt her.

That'll work.

For now just lounge back, enjoy the thrill of the hunt and let's listen in to our boys behind us.

Yes that's right, they're behind us.

That's why I wanted this booth. So I could eavesdrop; maybe pick of a few pointers.

I'm just kidding.

But I am listening… over the dull drone no one but vampy ears could pick it up; sometimes it's really good to be dead.

"…and her eyes, man did you see how big they got when I.."

"I hear ya and what about…"

"… God that was the best! Sure screamed a lot though."

"Gonna have a headache for a week. Still, that was a kick ass time no?"

"Indeed man. Too good to pass up a second time."

"Say what?"

"I know of her man, on the campus? I know where she lives.."

"Yeah…so?"

"We could pay her a visit…few nights from now...never expect it."

"Mmm...nah...nah…too risky."

"I'd risk anything to get my hands on those…"

"Alright, alright you talked me into it."

"Pussy."

"Shut up and buy the beer."

"Spike…Spike…SPIKE!!"

I snap back.. Summers is poking me on the shoulder. "What?" I growl.

"You were going vampy you moron." She snarls back.

She's right. I can feel my fangs receding, damn don't tell me I was getting angry again.  
Alright, so I was getting angry, big deal. Those two went into my territory. Everyone knows that Buffy and Co. are mine. So you touch what's mine I rip off the offending limb off and beat you to death with it.

I have got to lay off the movies.

It's not like I care or anything.

"They're behind us."

"What? It took you this long to figure out they were behind us?" Buffy challenges me.

"He knew where they were the second we got here." Giles now. Great gang up on ol'Spikey time.

"Then why…"

"Because he was probably getting off listening in to em', laughing his dead-white ass off I'll bet," Xander. Boy's sharper than he looks.

I turn my head to see Buffy's blue eyes carving into my own. If looks could kill I wouldn't notice.

Willow isn't even looking at us though. One hand still holds the Slayers own in a death grip while with the fingers of her other hand she's tracing the loops and whirls of various carvings in the table top.

"You're a pig Spike," Summers gets out through clenched teeth.

"Hey now, Slayer, they're right to a point. I did know where they were and I did listen in; normally I would happily confess to enjoying anything they might have had to share. I'm a BAD GUY. I would think you might understand what that means by now. However this is not 'regular' circumstances and I was not 'getting my jollies' either."

I hunch forward and bring my face mere centimetres from the Slayer's ear.

"I listened," I whisper, I can smell her breath…hear it shuddering in and out of her lungs, she's hanging with less of a thread than Red back there. Hmm, wheels within wheels. "I listened because it will make them taste that much sweeter when we carve out their hearts."

I pause.

"I listened to feed my anger."

She turns into my gaze and our eyes lock again. I can see the sparks dancing between us but I'm not fool enough to think these are some twisted form of attraction. These are sparks that will one day ignite and consume us both.

"And is your anger full?" she says back just as quietly.

I lean back out of the challenge and shrug. "I suppose," I say before grinning.

"We'll wait for them outside then," she announces to the group.

Harris and the Watcher simply nod before sliding out of the booth, I turn to see Summers again staring at me. Of course, she wants me to move.

I entertain the thought of ignoring her but no, I've had my fun.

With a put upon sigh I ease out and let the two girls, still holding hands I notice, past. All four of them turn as one and head for the entrance. I sit back down and kill my drink. Reach over and kill Red's too.

Ugh, mental note: Eat the bartender.

**

Why am I here? I said I wanted to find them and I thought I did at the time. But now...now they're right here! Ok not 'right here' right here but about twenty feet away. Inside that..place. We've been waiting for nearly half an hour. It's dark here. Lots off alleyways twisting around to meet here. Perfect hunting grounds, it's too bad I don't feel anything like a hunter.

It's so dark. I'm beginning to wonder if the sun will ever come back.

They're right here! And I can ..I can… no...No don't think about it. Can't think about it, won't think about…cloth...tearing and...how my throat is sore from screaming and how...I .hurt…and… I'm thinking about it.

Stop.

Think about...yeah...think about Buffy. She's safe to think about. Big, strong, Slayer Buffy. She's gonna kick their butts and...make em' hurt and...make em' um...hurt some more and…how…how...how that'll not make anything better. Cause she's not big strong Buffy. She's hurting too, she thinks she failed somehow; she has to understand ... How can she understand when I don't even understand.

Xander, poor Xander; he's trying so hard to be strong. I can tell he's feeling abandoned and we…I don't mean to do that. I just need...some…thing...time maybe. Just...get something or maybe…I DON'T KNOW!! I hugged him, I hugged him and tried to forgive him for something he had nothing to do with and it's just not working I can't..I can't.

 

Why can't I?

I don't know, I don't know- all I know...my Truth,keep that. I know my Truth. They didn't kill it, they didn't kill it. It's there..just have to wait a little longer that's all. I can feel it inside me, warm, patient. I became strong enough for this truth, no matter the consequences once, I can do it again. I just need...just need.. I still don't know.

Buffy's behind me. Arms wrapped around my shoulders, my own hands holding her forearms like a brace. She's warm too. My Truth and My Slayer. Both really warm…wonder ..I wonder when I'll be able to share the Truth?

Spike whispers from the behind the corner we're standing behind. "They're coming."

They're coming! They're coming and they're going to get me and I'm gonna be screaming and and ..they're gonna tear off...and...gonna…and...Buffy squeezes me tighter.

"You're safe Willow," she whispers in my ear. "Remember my promise? We're going to get them now and you can just watch and if you like, make suggestions okay? You okay with that?"

I nod dumbly, there's a scream logged in my throat...a still born scream and it's stuck!

I swallow...and I swallow again..

"What…" I croak. "What now?"

Giles step forward and almost...almost puts his hand on my shoulder. "Now me," Is all he says before stepping around the corner.

There's silence for a few moment. I want to look. I do..really…I do...I wanna see...but…I turn and nestle in Buffy's embrace instead.

Coward.

Spike steps forward. "Not going to watch Red?" he asks.

I shake my head.

He shrugs. "Your prerogative I suppose. I for one am not going to miss this." And he vanishes around the corner as well.

Not gonna watch, nope…I can still hear though.

"Excuse me gentlemen," That's Giles.

"..eh?"

I hear them...hear them!  
Ohmygodohmygod..recognisethatvoiceneverforgetthatvoicetellingmegonnakillmenevergonnaforgetnever Forgetgottarungottahide!  
Notsafeherenotsafegottaggeeetttttaawwwwaaaayyyy!!!

Buffy…won't let anything happen. She's safe...a harbour...safe...still wanna run. Hear hammering against my ribs...she can probably feel it. I turn my head and look at her. She smiles at me with her eyes.

"You're ok," she whispers. Kisses me on my forehead again. Yeah...yeah I'm okay...still wanna run.

"..what ya say ol' man?"

"Um...I seem to need an answer to a question. Could you help me?"

"Fuggof ol' man can't…right now...get outta da way.."

"Oh it's really a simple question. Please, I'll pay you for your time."

"Don' need no money. Geddoudda way."

"Nah, nah, let him speak...whatz yer question? We be happy to help."

"Do you know what the word 'No' means?"

"What?"

"Huh?"

Sound of fist meeting flesh. Some scuffling, a muffled scream. Another blow, I shudder.

"No," Giles again. "A negative response or a denial."

More sounds of scuffling, someone trying to run away. A loud grunt and now someone is making these deep gasping moans.

"Middle English variant of non, from Old English, none: ne, not."

Another smacking sound, breath whistling from lungs, someone screaming..

"My nose, my nose, you froke my frukin' nose!"

"Used to express refusal, denial," someone is beating someone else against the wall, sounds like a pumpkin being hit by a baseball bat. "Disbelief, emphasis, or disagreement!" Giles is shouting now and I can still hear the sounds of someone beating someone else to death.

There's silence for a while...just the sounds of heavy breathing. And some moaning noises.

Giles walks around the corner a few moments later. His hair is slightly mussed but other than that he looks fine. He's grinning a little.

He reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and fishes out his glasses. Putting them on he inspects the knuckles on his left hand where a nasty bruise is already forming.

"That is really going to hurt in the morning," He says conversationaly. "Xander, your turn."

Xander only nods and steps around the corner. Buffy is still holding me.

"..ey..hey man who are...what the hell ..what?" a scream of pain.

"Put my ..my..frien- " Another. Higher pitched.

And that's all I hear for the next few minutes. Xander isn't saying anything, he's silent as he dishes out his punishment. Just heavy breathing and sounds of fighting, well, not fighting more like just a one sided beating.

He comes back around the corner just as silently. I can see one of his hands are covered in blood. He notices where I'm looking. "It's mine," He explains. "Caught one of their teeth."

I nod...can feel a whimper coming.. I've never seen Xander like this. Never seen a Xander like this before. He...he scares me. I don't want to be scared of him...why did this happen? Where is my funny, soft Xander? Where did the dark scary one come from and how do I get him to go away?

I guess he can see it 'cause his eyes soften and he gives me one of his infamous 'Hey, it's me' grins.

I smile back...kinda. Then he looks over my shoulder at Buffy. His smile went away.

He nods and says. "Your turn."

Buffy begins to unwrap her arms from around me and I grab at them.

"Don't go! Don't go!" I say breathlessly.

"Shh…shhh...it's ok...I'll be right back. Xander and Giles will be here, you'll be safe. I'll be right back." Her tone of voice chances from soft to steel. "I just want to see."

I look at Xander and Giles who simply standing there, in the dark. I should feel safe with them and before tonight I never would think otherwise but now...now… I don't want to hurt them though, don't want to hurt them again I mean.

So I lie.

"I…I want to see too."

She pauses again and looks at me for a few very scary seconds. "Okay."

Buffy….

With her hands in mine we walk around the corner together. I get to see them...for the first time I really get to see them.

One is hunched on the ground sobbing, curled up with his hands protecting his groin. Guess Xander ...decided to focus there. The other is wobbling about, using a nearby brick wall to support himself with one arm. His face is a bloody mess. One eye has already swollen shut and blood runs freely from his nose.

Oh yeah, Spike is leaning against a far wall...just watching.

"I have to let you go now okay?" Buffy asks. I nod.

She slowly releases my hands; she has to manually unwrap my fingers from her own 'cause it seems they won't listen to me. I wrap my arms around myself in a poor substitute for one of her own hugs. Spike looks over at me and nods slowly...I just hug myself tighter and try and watch.

She doesn't say anything either. Just drags the one on the ground to his feet and pulls him after her as she goes after the one still trying to drunkenly stagger away. He looks over his shoulder and tries to break into a run but she's on him already.

She's grabbed them each by their throats now and has them pinned against the wall. A streetlight is casting shadows over all off them. She's choking them, I can see her knuckles getting whiter and whiter...she's strong enough to snap their necks but she's dragging this out. Making it slow.

Their feet are scrabbling madly against the wall and their hands clawing at her wrists, seeking purchase...but ...already they're getting weaker...she's choking them and choking them...and….

Her face. Her beautiful, warm, face it's gone. The light is stark across her features. Cheeks are shallow and drawn like she's on the last bits of strength. Her eyes are wild…furious...I can see insanity warring there and- she's lost. Tears are running down her face but she doesn't wipe them away just keeps squeezing tighter and tighter…they're hardly struggling at all now.

Behind them all Spike is slowly applauding.

I can't let this happen! I can't!

"Buffy!!" I scream.

She doesn't seem to hear me for a moment but then...then her head slowly turns toward me...and I can really see her eyes. Lost, sad, hating eyes...hating themselves...sad...so sad eyes..

She smiles, a warm loving smile meant for newborn babies or soft kitty cats nestled against your cheek. I have never seen anything so horrible in my life.

"I'm sorry Willow," She murmers. Still smiling. "I know what I said back in the dorm but...I'm sorry."

I'm not fooled by what she's saying.

She's not apologizing.

She's saying goodbye.

Won't lose her, will not! Will not let these two...two…ASSHOLES destroy my family! Not when we've faced the kinds of hell that would have thousand of them screaming in place waiting to be shredded!

I will not!

I WILL NOT!!

"Buffy!" I shout. Not screaming…shouting. She ignores me, she's turned back to watching her two friends...watching them for that last light to flee.

"Buffy! My Truth!" I shout again.

She's looking at me! She can see me...gotta do it...gotta do it...remember Rosenberg, no matter what happens, it's better this way.

"My Truth is for you." I say. Spikes stops applauding. "My Truth," and I'm walking toward her slowly, arms stretched out in front of me...hey...I'm crying again.

When did that start?

"My Truth is...Buffy...My Truth is…I love you Buffy."

She just stands there for a second. She's got this little crease between her eyes. That always happens when she's confused. Her head cocks to the side slightly. I can't help but giggle a little. She looks so cute this way…without the two ..things...half dead against the wall of course.

"I love you Buffy." I say again. "Love..you."

"Willow?" She gasps.

And she lets them go.

**

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!

What the HELL is going on?

I came out here to watch a good bit of vengeance, some blood play, a little hunting and hopefully cold, hard, murder. Not some proclamation of forbidden love.

Giles was great; beat the tar out of the too little snots and his speech was kinda funny too. Xander, now that I did not expect. The boy was glorious, so good in fact that when I get this chip out of my head I'm seriously considering turning the little shit. Never expected him to be the quiet type and what a vicious knee, used it like a pro. Cheap shots all the way. Bravo. Five stars.

The Slayer seemed to be doing fine too, just…killing the fuckers slow. A worthwhile endeavour that I was really enjoying and then the Witch here has to go and get a bad case of morals.

Is every power in universe bent on ruining my fun?

Now they're kneeling in front of each, crying, sobbing, holding each others faces wearing the biggest, dumbest grins; at least they're not kissing. I can feel my stomach clenching. If this keeps up I might be the first vampire in the history of the world to puke.

Right. Plan B then.

I put my fingers between my teeth and whistle.

**

Well.  
Xander seems to be handling that little announcement pretty well. He's just standing there with this very inane smile on his face.

I can't say I'm all that surprised. Combat stress on relationships has been known to cause sudden…shifts. Not to say that she wouldn't have. And what business of is it of mine anyway? I can only be there, be supportive...be a father. 

And keep Xander from saying anything stupid.

I take off my glasses and rub my nose. Life just got much more complicated.

**

Of course…why didn't I see it before? I'm not being left out I'm just not...um…let's not go there.

Alright, I'm shocked and not all of it has sunk in probably. What the hell, they're my friends right? So,whatever makes her happy. I guess. Part of my mind is kicking up a storm, saying it's wrong or some other stupid shit, I squash it. Another part is suddenly getting many odd ideas. I don't squash that one but I sure as hell am not talking about it.

Oh my God! I have to get this leer of my face somehow or Buffy will KILL me!

**

Did she? She did.

Wow..I mean..just wow..I never would have guessed. I don't know what to say. I don't even think I have the capacity for speech; how'd I get here anyway? A second ago I was choking two people to death. Willow says she loves me and now I'm on my knees in front of her and we're both crying. But I have no recollection of how I got from point 'A' to point 'B'.

Weird.

I mean, that was…brave of her...and…she saved me. I could feel myself slipping away as I killed them. Losing myself, gone...never would have been who I had been before. I knew all this but it didn't stop me. I couldn't stop.

But she saved me. Willow saved me. My friend saved me.

My friend…and?

I'm not quite sure yet. Have to think about it and feel about it but…right now I'm safe.

We both are.

Who's whistling?

**

The two vampires melt out of the shadows behind Buffy. I see them she doesn't. But when my eyes widen in horror she whips around and is on her feet. I can see her hand reaching for a stake...which she doesn't have.

This is bad.

"Ease back Slayer," Spike says coming off the wall. "They're not here for you."

"Spike. When?"

"In the bar, while getting the beer."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, I suppose just in case anyone here went all Chicken Belly on me. I didn't come here for vengeance Summers. I came here for the entertainment value and one way or the other I will have my satisfaction. I paid my dues, putting up with your company and I want my moneys worth."

He turns to the two vamps, game faces on all the way. "Cafeterias behind you boys," he says pointing with a figure. "Chow down."

The two vamps approach the fallen figures of my...attack….I….of…my…rapists.

The two men are starting to recover; both are rubbing at their throats one swearing endlessly the other crying. I can relate...I know how it feels to cry. I think I'll be knowing for a while. They're kind of lucky, they'll not have to worry about tears after the next….

Both of them manage to get a glimpse of what's coming.

The crying one just starts crying louder as the one vamp grabs his head, exposes the neck and sinks it's fangs in. I think he's calling for his mother.

The other?

"fuck..fuck..Fuck..Fuck..FUCK FUCK FUUUCCCCKKKK!!!!"

Xander and Giles have come around the corner by now; we're all just watching these two vampires feed. No one says anything; I reach out and grab Buffy's hands. I'm still on my knees. She reaches back blindly and grabs on to me.

I've seen vamps feed before, most of the time it's gentle in it's own way. Usually the expression of terror on the victims slowly fades away for something...else. This is not like that. This is ugly. The vampires are not really draining them; they're tearing the blood from the men's bodies.

I can see their throats bob with every swallow and under the harsh light of the streetlamp I can see their pale skin acquiring a slight pinkish tinge. The men's eyes keep bulging out, bigger and bigger but their jaws are slack, one's tongue is hanging out of his mouth...like a slug.

I can't help but wonder if that's the same tongue that was sliding all ove…No!

"That's enough boys," Spike says and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a silver object and with a few deft flicks of his wrist the blade of a butterfly knife gleams in the darkness.

"Let's have those wrists."

One of the vamps throws aside his ...'meal.'

"Screw you Chip boy! I don't want no minions or childe, I'm still hungry and I'm changing the deal. The redhead looks yummy…step aside."

"Jee," Spike says. "Chip Boy, how original." He tosses a look at Xander who just shakes his head.

"Bad move fangy," Xander mutters.

He's right.

Spike puts his hand through the vampire's chest, ripping out his heart which explodes into dust a split second before the rest of the vamp follows.

"YES!" Spike snarls. "I finally got to kill something!"

He turns to the remaining vamp.

"Well?"

He...it...whatever...holds out a wrist which Spike slices open. Then grabbing the bleeding limb Spike forces it over the slack jaws of my two assailants. Assailants...I think I can live with that word.

A few drops fall into their mouths before Spike pushes the vamp away.

"That's enough. Get outta here before the Slayer here gets over her new found love affair and remembers all that destiny crap."

The vamp snarls at Spike who simply examines his nails for dust particles. The vamp runs away. Smart vampire, Buffy'll have to track that one down.

Spike walks over to us.

"There," He says. "Problem solved. Wait a few days and you can kill them without any issues regarding morality bouncing around in that pretty head of yours."

"You're still a pig Spike," Buffy says.

"Oink, oink Slayer. I'm feeling to good right now to be bothered by your verbal jabs," He crouches down on the balls of his feet beside me.

"Normally Red I'd be crowing to the moon about how enjoyable it was being involved in something regarding human suffering. I like it, I can't help it and I won't apologize for it. But there are some things even I won't advocate. Yes, I'm a predator and darn well proud of it but it's for food mostly and if I ying and yang my prey about for a bit so much the better, makes it more spicy but there is a line I will not cross."

He idly chucks my chin very lightly with the knuckles of one hand and I can feel Buffy stiffen.

"You'll be okay," He says.

He stands up.

"And in case you're wondering why I really helped you?" Spike goes away and his demon comes out, "It's because you ..are…MINE!"

And just as quick it's gone.

He smiles cheekily. "Just kidding." 

 

Tossing us a salute he walks away into the gloom of the alleyways though his voice drifts back to us from the darkness. "Giles, I'm going to go for another walk. Don't wait up."

Xander leans forward and mumbles to the Watcher. "Can you lock the door?"

"I heard that!"

I am really, really tired.

Buffy pulls me to my feet and I can't help but stare at her…she's so lovely and I've told her how I really feel...and it might not be returned...not now, maybe not ever...but that's okay…as my sisters told me...it's better this way and I think they're right.

"C'mon Willow." Buffy says. "Let's go home; I'll keep the nightmares away."

"Yes," I say. "You will."

And she does.

END- Red


	7. Yellow

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents,  
A Mad-Hamlet Production

Prisms - Yellow

 

Heh, you're kidding right? I mean, we just got here less than., okay, we've been here an hour and you want to leave? Kick back, relax I'll get us another beer. Yeah, I know it fuckin' sucks what's yer point? I mean if we cared about quality we'd be…er…somewhere else. It does the job. I'm satisfied.

Oh, you're not satisfied. Well fuck that, what the fuck do you think will satisfy you then huh fancy boy?

Huh? A woman?

Well,okay there's plenty to choose from. Yeah, well they're skanky assed whores; again, your point ya stupid fuck? Jeeze picky sonuvabitch ain't ya.

Christ, maybe you have had too much to drink. I told ya not to slam that fifth shot, 'Wanna grab one' right. Okay, I think you've gone round the bend, Saul. Just, just sit your ass back down okay? We ain't goin' nowhere.

No, no no! You chill compadre! I still wanna drink so sit down or I'll whup ya upside yer head! Better. No, I'll order you just better be here when I get back.

Oh Jesus Christ, on a pogo stick, I didn't think it was possible! The whiskey sucks ass more than the beer! Remind me why we come here would you? No I fucking doubt very much it's for the fucking atmosphere. C'mon, let's head for the back, I gotta take a piss.

What, what? What do'ya want can't ya see I'm busy here? Jeeze, lemme at least get my zipper up n'…aaww shit man now I gotta wash my hands! Thanks fuckin' heaps. Okay, what's so damn important you have to interrupt my quality time?

Yeah…yeah I see her so? Yeah she's nice looking...though with that tent dress it's kinda hard to tell. Like the hair though. Oho! You want a woman like her eh? Good fuckin' luck; man half the time even the whores won't give you the time of day. Chill with the delusions of grandeur! Hey man, hey...hey! What's the fuck you...I said no...No! Man…aww…fuck.

Ho…Ly….Shit!

God damn man are out of your fuckin' mind? No way in hell am I helping you, no you want her you can handle it. You're a grown boy ain't ya? Momma must be real proud of you now. Oh quit yer bitching, fine fine…yeah I got her. Alright, what now hotshot?

You got her mouth covered? Man Saul, you better not lose it or we are so screwed. What the fuck am I talkin' about, we're already screwed. Okay, okay. I'll shut up. No, no of course I'm not scared, jeeze you callin' me a coward cause if you are I'll just have to drop the bitch and take you out. No? Good. So where too?

Yeah, yeah, I got her legs she can't kick us. Hey..green eyes! Cool.

Whoa, easy with the blade man, we're trying to cut the clothes! Hello?!! Earth to Saul, I'm not into blood. So, you're hands shaking, fine gimmie the fucking knife I'll do it.

Whoa…check those out...soft lookin'. Aw...don't cry baby…this won't hurt. I'll be gentle. Now Saul? Well, can't really speak for him can I? You'll be gentle won't ya Saul? Oooh. He's smiling, not a good sign.

Yeah, fine…whatever..it was your idea you can go first blah blah blah...will you just...y'know get it done already? Damn...I'm thirsty.

Jesus fucking balls Saul! One thing I did not need to see was your skanky, white ass. Fuck, get some god damn modesty. I'll be over here, want a cigarette. And try and keep her from screaming okay? Gettin' a headache.

Alright! Play time…Well shit. She's passed out. There goes half the fun right there.

Yeah, yeah chill man, let me take my time, I swear, no romance in your soul at all.

Yup, all done. C'mon let's go. Nah, she's still out. Yeah, it was a good idea, no that doesn't mean I'm buying the next round it's your turn.

Sheeit, beer don't taste so bad no more does it? Gimmie a ciggie.

Ha! Yeah..I said I'd think about it, fine. Maybe a repeat performance. Yeah, yeah it was fun, now…c'mon, let's jet. S'late and I got a shift in the morning.

Huh? Wha..? A question? Yeah…well sure, 'Sgo ahead.

The word 'No' say wha…HOoog..

JesusJesusJesus oh fuckin' Christ! My...my face...my face…what...what the fuck...who...what?

OH MY FUCKING CHRIST!! Oh fuck, oh christ, oh fuck, Mary's wheeping oh shit..OH GOD!! Fuck...me...shit..and gonna fucking kill you you stupid pu..OOOF ...nnnnaaaa…

Nnnuuhh…nuu…hh….nnuu…hhh….godgodfuckgodfuckshit…nuuuhh…nuuhh…wha..wha..put me down..ya..psycho..bitch…

Oh shit...oh shit…oh shit...ohshitohshitohshit… I see you..I see you, you red haired whore! I see you and you're killing us…fuck shit…Saul…you stupid fuck you've killed us both…can't keep it your goddamn pants…can't breath…can't…

AIR!! Oh sweet, sweet air…God my throat…oh man…Jesus Saul stop yer crying ya…fuckin…baby…

Oh.

Oh No. No, no no…you can't be real…you're not real. You're not real! YOU'RE NOT REAL!!!

GET AWAY FROM ME!! MOMMY!! MOMMY HELP ME! MOMMY THE MONSTERS!! THE MONSTERS ARE REAL!! MAKE THEM GO AWAY MOMMY! MAKE THEM GO AWAAAYYYYY!!

 

Well…shit. I can't see a thing. S'dark.

Out..want out.

 

Yeah…out. Out is good. Where is out?

Up.

Gotta get out, gotta get out...out up…out...up…light! I see light…almost out…almost out…damn this is easy.

Yeah baby! Out and up!

Where the hell am I? How did I get here? What time is it anyway? Holy shit! The ..the cemetery? I…I…I just dug my way out of my own…gosh I'm hungry.

"Rise and shine fuck face."

Wha? Who said that? You…I know you, you're that…that blonde bitch. Yeah, I know you and who's that behind you..why hello my lil' redhead. I know you. I know you real well.

"It's the ending of a brand new day."

Yeah, yeah whatever bitch. Oh man, I feel fan-fucking-tastic! Hungry though and mmm...you look yummy. You and yer lil pal. Oh yeah baby, two for the price of one! Saul, looks like you get sloppy seconds this time.

Oh no! A pointy stick. I'm supposed to be afraid of that?

END- Yellow


	8. White

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents,  
A Mad-Hamlet Production

Prisms - White

 

"Heya."

"Hey."

"How was the shower?"

"Took a while, got the vamp dust off."

"It was only those...those...two."

"Yeah but they seemed extra...explosive."

"Well..you staked them kinda hard."

"They deserved it, I'm just sorry it was so fast. I wanted them to hurt I wanted-"

"Buffy, please let it go."

"I...that is…yeah…alright. Just this one time I hope they are damned."

"Buffy!"

"Okay, okay still...felt good to take a shower without my clothes on."

"Yeah...I'm..."

"Don't even go there. It's not an issue. Issue, non...non-issue. This issue is thoroughly nonned."

"Nonning the issue. Right."

"Good."

"What's up?"

"Nothing much, just thinking, lots to think about."

"That's my fau-"

"Ahem...Issue thy name is non."  
"This too, Buffy?"

"You betcha."

"Oh."

"Get over here ya silly goob!"

"What..hey..stop! Cut that out! That tickles…oh...oh jeeze…can't …breath!!"

"There, that'll teach ya to go all pout-faced on me."

"Pouty-facing will cease at once. My most humble apologies."

"Ahem!"  
"Sorry…sorry…"

"AHEM!!"

"Oh no…not with the tickling agggaaaiiinn!!"

 

"Hoo…ha…gaaahh…thanks….I needed that."

"You are most welcome."

"Darn tootin'"

"Say what?"

"Darn tootin' I'm welcome...oh...that doesn't make much sense does it? Who cares, felt good, needed, yeah, feeling much better after getting nearly tickled to death. Oh…the agony, tortured by my best friend, betrayed and then left...oh the agony...sweet…sweet...agony."

"Can I put babble-mode under the non-issue clause?"

"Nope, it's built in."

"Well,darn!"

"Darn tootin'!"

"So…what were you thinking about?"

"Not gonna give up on that are ya?"

"Never…nope...put the fingers away maestro, s'not gonna happen."

"Well..shoot. Okay..I was thinking about…"

"Well?"

"Rituals."

"What?"

"Rituals."

"I know...I mean...I heard you, Buffy, and…well...I was just surprised."

"Why?"

"Oh nononono, you're not turnin' the tables on me. What about rituals?"

"I…I was wondering what they were like."

"Any one in particular?"

"Yyyeeeessss…."

"It wasn't a ritual Buffy, I ...we just talked."

"About what?"

"What do you think?"

"Why did you tell me you loved me?"

"Because I do."

"And you told them that?"

"No, I told them that I loved someone but was afraid."

"And what did they tell you?"

"They...they told me that if I didn't tell than the chances of me never knowing were a hundred percent; if I did...well...I would at least have a chance."

"But...but what if I…what if…."  
"Then you don't. It doesn't change anything, you're still my friend and you always will be and at least you know and I know that you know. Either way ...I…we can move on."

"What if it does change things though? I mean…what if I feel I'm hurting you and...that I feel like I'm expected too...too…."

"Breath Buffy. No...never. You're my friend, above all else you're my friend and I told you because I am your friend and I trust you. Trust you never to hurt me...and you trust me to never hurt you. I and never would."

"What if it happens anyway?"

"...I don't know...but it won't happen!"

"Why not?"

"Cause I won't let it."

"It's not that easy, Willow."

"Do you remember what you told me in the shower?"

"What...the promise I'd never go back-"

"I know that, I'd never question your promise, no I was talking about the other thing you said."

"Huh?"

"How quickly they forget. It is that simple Buffy."

"Simple."

"Yeah…."

"You think so."

"Yup, I do."

"Damn...when did you get so smart?"

"Rituals. Hey, stop laughing I'm being serious here!"

"Heya again."

"Hi."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing…maybe...I'm...I'm just worried about you. What may happen when you go to class."

"I'll be fine."

"Willow, you haven't...it's not over, hell it's not even begun and-"

"I know, I know all this and…and I'm worried too. But I have to go and I can't ask you to be there either."

"Neither rain, nor sleet, nor cold of wind will keep a Rosenberg from her classes eh?"

"Not even rape."

"Willow?"

"I'm fine...really I'm fine...I'm okay...it's…."

"It's not something in your eye…damnit…you're right."

"What?"

"I said 'you're right' now come here. No, I mean right here."

"In your lap? Buffy I'm in college."

"Don't care, get over here...okay...now...give me your hands."

"Buffy?"

"Give me your hands!"

"Buffy?"

"You're repeating yourself but that's not important right now."

"What…what is important then?"

"I'm getting to that...gimmie a minute."

"It's been three min-"

"Hush up you!"

"Hushing up."

"Willow?"

"That was six minutes…sorry...sorry."

"Willow, you're right, you were right then and you are right now." 

"..."

"It is that simple."

"What…what are you saying Buffy?"

"Willow, my sweet Willow...I have a Secret."

END- White


End file.
